There is a particularly cruel form of self-torture that I subject myself to pretty regularly. It's painful every time, and I swear I'm never going to do it again. Yet yesterday it happened once again, and I'm not sure if I'll recover.
I'm talking about reading the class updates in the college alumni magazine.
Sure, it was only a little hard in the beginning. Reading about classmates going to medical school and Wall Street and the Peace Corps. I had a good job, that was interesting to me.
Then the years came when the column was full of marriages and promotions. Books were written, businesses started. I had a better job, but nothing exciting. I hadn't met Prince Charming yet.
Later came the news that classmates were the heads of their departments at hospitals, and partners at law firms, and parents. I got married at age 30 to my own Prince Charming - an alumni of our rival school.
This month when I opened it up, I read the most shocking stage of all.
Some of my classmates now have children enrolled at our school.
How is this possible? I don't feel any older. And I feel like I just paid off my student loans last month. I guess I've been out of school longer than I thought.
So today I am feeling not only mediocre, but painfully old.
I've really got to stop reading this thing.
********************************************************************
Responses to comments yesterday; Friday House Tour
Auds; I'd make you a quilt but my project queue is already as long as my arm. I'll teach you though! ohholly, kids taxi driver; thanks! Des; LOL Viggo is mine mine mine! Alisa, Cheryl Lage; thanks! Lidian; those cats are slavedrivers. And we're the slaves. Katherine; thanks, and I hope you're right about the bright quilt. The back is calmer, so they can always turn it over. Jocasta; Great! Let's borrow from each other - I want to do a time lapse on a messy room like you did. Laura; that is funny! My kids are so into it, they gather around every time. Note how I have to buy the monster-sized jars of peanut butter - one each of creamy and crunchy. Scrapmaker; thank you! Monkey Memories; hmmm, are you hinting I should upload a song? Maybe. Might be easier for you to just come out and visit. Or maybe I should come visit you. There's a lovely harp store in Las Vegas where they let me practice once. Texasholly; Thanks! I thought I'd get some angry words about abusing the poor cat. Noble Pig; this makes us even - I am insanely jealous of your cooking skills. Cheri; three little everybodies in my house is enough! I'll pencil you onto the waiting list, for all that spare time I have around Christmas.
Stitching Day
6 hours ago
.jpg)
9 people stopped folding laundry to write:
See, that's the benefit of being an older student (they liked to call us "non-traditional" - doesn't that sound better than "old farts"?) at a HUGE school. I knew virtually NO ONE in my class. They were all about 15 years younger than me. So I could give a shit about their sad little lives. I rock!
And so do you.
:) Yes, come and visit us! And I'm not teaching my kids to make grapes (though that would be educational!) but at Open House an older sibling must have messed with my standards board and erased the H in graphs then tried to fix it...
Feel better. Not only am I sensing a "next generation" matriculation, but I'm checking the obits section now too. :(
A recent visit to my alma mater (the alma mater of a nation ;) ) revealed that Barnes and Noble has actually usurped the college bookstore...carrying sportswear and all. The times, they are a changin' (Thankfully, that song predates me, but not much else does anymore...)
PS I'm SO with you on Animalia...one of my very faves.
Oh, how I am feeling your pain. A friend and I were just having this discussion yesterday - we still feel like immature 15 year olds, but we have kids that age! We're just hoping no one expects us to 'grow up' because where's the fun in that?!
What makes me feel old is my 20 year reunion coming up next year...seriously there is no way I have been out of highschool that long. Ugh.
You play the harp.
Does it make things better that I am jealous of you?
Ouch Ouch Ouch! I'm coming over right now with a big box of bandaids for that gaping wound.
Just throw that sucker out. That's what I'd do. :)
I am thankful that my college doesn't have a magazine well if it does I'm unaware of it!
Post a Comment