I am turning twenty eight. As in, I've lived on this planet for an entire eight and twenty years. As in, I can tell people that I'm in my late twenties...no longer in my mid twenties...(le sob, le sob).
For the lack of a grand hyperbolic expression, I cannot believe I've become this old. I still feel like I've got the maturity of an eighteen year old. Maybe even a sixteen year old. What the hell am I supposed to act like, now that I'm in my late twenties? I so don't have a career path set out for me. And I definitely cannot do the whole North Indian/Delhi house-wife type thing where I gloat about the new 20,000 rupee designer dress I've recently purchased by a famous designer. So what the hell else is there? (ya know, maybe I can be the cat-lady person who talks about her cat all the time and I can drink five glasses of champagne and pass out in someone-else's house--ON THEIR MOTHER'S BED...but that's a different story for a different time). I so need to figure out what life is about. Seriously. I mean, apart from cats.
This year, I don't even know what I want for my birthday. This might seem strange to some readers, but this hasn't ever happened to me! Last year, I knew exactly what I wanted: a brand new iphone. The year before: a kitten! The year before: a ring. And the year before: a bag. This year...*crickets.* I got a fancy watch from my parents right before the wedding last year, and I wore for a few months--as in, I'm not a watch person and I can't be bothered to wear one.
So what the hell else is there? I've got all the diamonds I can ever need in this life time...(see the wedding pics). I've got pretty much everything I want and need...ya know, apart from a successful career. Which, obviously, someone can't give you for your birthday. Seriously...so what else? Argh...you know life is hard when you have no idea what you want for your birthday. (***and just before I get a ton of emails telling me how ridiculous I am being, that's sarcasm you're reading***)
So anyway, here's my birthday present to myself---I promise to lose 10 lbs in the next month. And I promise to let my liver have a break this year.
For the lack of a grand hyperbolic expression, I cannot believe I've become this old. I still feel like I've got the maturity of an eighteen year old. Maybe even a sixteen year old. What the hell am I supposed to act like, now that I'm in my late twenties? I so don't have a career path set out for me. And I definitely cannot do the whole North Indian/Delhi house-wife type thing where I gloat about the new 20,000 rupee designer dress I've recently purchased by a famous designer. So what the hell else is there? (ya know, maybe I can be the cat-lady person who talks about her cat all the time and I can drink five glasses of champagne and pass out in someone-else's house--ON THEIR MOTHER'S BED...but that's a different story for a different time). I so need to figure out what life is about. Seriously. I mean, apart from cats.
This year, I don't even know what I want for my birthday. This might seem strange to some readers, but this hasn't ever happened to me! Last year, I knew exactly what I wanted: a brand new iphone. The year before: a kitten! The year before: a ring. And the year before: a bag. This year...*crickets.* I got a fancy watch from my parents right before the wedding last year, and I wore for a few months--as in, I'm not a watch person and I can't be bothered to wear one.
So what the hell else is there? I've got all the diamonds I can ever need in this life time...(see the wedding pics). I've got pretty much everything I want and need...ya know, apart from a successful career. Which, obviously, someone can't give you for your birthday. Seriously...so what else? Argh...you know life is hard when you have no idea what you want for your birthday. (***and just before I get a ton of emails telling me how ridiculous I am being, that's sarcasm you're reading***)
So anyway, here's my birthday present to myself---I promise to lose 10 lbs in the next month. And I promise to let my liver have a break this year.
