Young Ones versus Old Guns

Feeling old and farty...

I know I'm 24, and the left side of my brain knows I'm 24, and hence both not old and still young...but the other part of my brain, the part that stood in a college bar on Saturday night wearing a wedding band, feels really old and farty and really not young at all.

I don't really believe that it matters if you're married, but it undeniably increases those old and farty feelings. Don't get me wrong, it's the most uplifting and exhilarating thing I've ever experienced to be married...but when I'm emailing my husband's law school friend's wife and we're meeting up for lunch and discussing our husband's summer work schedules...then it really exacerbates the whole old and farty…

College wasn't that long ago...all night-ers in the library, or just all night-ers for the sake of staying up all night, are now relegated to climbing into bed at 10:00 and falling asleep to the Food Network. Shabbos plans go into gear on Tuesday afternoon to manage working full time, grocery shopping, cooking, candlesticks, and company by Friday at 7 pm. Friends get emailed on their "work addresses" as opposed to bu.edu, nyu.edu, or columbia.edu and voicemails no longer have cute messages or silly songs in case their bosses calls even on their weekends off...(I by the way, refuse to change my vm, and the cake-cutting song from my wedding still plays, NYU School of Medicine employee or not).

I walked out of my building this morning holding an extra bag and the doorman said "Mrs. Yunger, that's too heavy for you, let me get that", then I headed up the block passing PS 1whatever on my block only to hear the school guard say to me "new Mom's go this way" (OK so maybe I wasn't wearing the most flattering shirt, but "new moms?!?"), only to jump on the subway and bump into someone I haven't seen in so long I can’t remember if I know her from elementary school or camp, and then end the morning commute at my breakfast stop where 2 guys leaped up and said "hi Yessie, the usual?". I walked into my office relegated to accepting old and farty, but as fate would have it (and make for the perfect ending for my first blog) my “relegating” was interrupted by the 95 year old coworker who walked in and announced that today was her 96th birthday. She is not a volunteer, but a paid employee, with heaps of great grandchildren who rides the 2nd Avenue bus to work 3 times a week. She popped into my office and told me she attended multiple birthday parties in her honor this weekend and then word for word said "Can you believe I'm 96? I feel as young as you look".

At that point both sides of my brain rallied and reminded each other how young I still am, how wonderfully exciting youth is, and how "old and farty" is as many years away as this 96 year old woman is from 24.

-j