Year 24: Day One

Nov 27, 2013 by

Oh my fucking God! Google is awesome! I noticed that the Google doodle seemed birthday festive today. How appropriate, I thought, given that it’s my birthday. Wondering which famous person shares my birthday to warrant the coincidental doodle, I hovered my cursor over it to see: “Happy Birthday Maria!” My mouth dropped! My immediate thought: a famous Maria shares my birthday! – Wait, no, how could I be so foolish? Google would have put a last name if the Maria whose birthday is supposedly the same as mine were famous. It finally hit me: Google was wishing me a happy birthday! I was utterly confused by how Google knew and why Google cared, but felt important nonetheless (#egocentric). Okay, I told myself, take it down. Obviously, Olivia somehow made this happen. Although I was slow to come to this realization, friends, please note that I did eventually arrive at it myself: I was logged in to Gmail. #dumbass #easilyamused


Oh my fucking God! Google is awesome! I noticed that the Google doodle seemed birthday festive today. How appropriate, I thought, given that it’s my birthday. Wondering which famous person shares my birthday to warrant the coincidental doodle, I hovered my cursor over it to see: “Happy Birthday Maria!” My mouth dropped! My immediate thought: a famous Maria shares my birthday! – Wait, no, how could I be so foolish? Google would have put a last name if the Maria whose birthday is supposedly the same as mine were famous. It finally hit me: Google was wishing me a happy birthday! I was utterly confused by how Google knew and why Google cared, but felt important nonetheless (#egocentric). Okay, I told myself, take it down. Obviously, Olivia somehow made this happen. Although I was slow to come to this realization, friends, please note that I did eventually arrive at it myself: I was logged in to Gmail. #dumbass #easilyamused

          I’m handling being 24 a lot better than expected! Ignore the fact that yesterday’s positive spin on my mid-twenties was later followed by me chanting the number 23 aloud at 11:59 pm, as if that would stop time, and closing my eyes upon midnight with the mentality that it wasn’t real if I couldn’t see it. After that little episode, I busted out my cake (La Rocca makes everything better) and welcomed the attention of being the birthday girl. It turns out that my birthday is awesome now that I have friends! It’s been five years since I’ve received such an abundant amount of birthday wishes. I usually only hear from my immediate family (if I’m lucky, all five members!), one of my aunts (she’s the best!), and Olivia. Facebook is probably contributing to the sharp increase in awareness of my birthday; but, I haven’t even logged in to Facebook yet today, which means that all of the birthday acknowledgment I’ve received so far has been via text, phone call (yes, one of my friends called me this morning!), or in person (the number of hugs I received today made me melt). At work, my desk was decorated, and flowers and cupcakes from friends that aren’t even in my department were waiting for me! I was overwhelmed by everyone’s thoughtfulness.

          As for the age factor, I’m surprisingly cool with it. I reopened my eyes by 12:01 am, which signified a speedy acceptance of the fact that I’ve joined the trenches of 1989ers that beat me to 24. (Thank you to everyone born prior to November 27, 1989. You make every age increase more palatable.) Plus, today, I got the shocked, “You’re only 24?” Despite looking much younger than I am (please still be the case when I’m 40), people tend to think I’m older than I am. I dread the day that people are no longer shocked that I’m as young as I am. It will mean that my age has caught up to my maturity level, indicating that I’m no longer young enough to be “mature for my age.” (These are other people’s words; not mine. Though, let’s be honest, I know it. It’s the reason that I get along well with older people.) I’m so glad to know that I haven’t reached that point yet. I definitely appreciate the stunned expressions I get in response to my age relative to my maturity level. Once I’m expected to be as mature as I am, I’ll know I’ve gotten old.

          All fabulous comments that I’m still a baby aside, on a personal level, I’m excited for 24! Olivia summed up my reasoning perfectly: “I love that you’re thinking positively about turning 24, but I know you. You loved 23, and you’re worried that 24 won’t be as good. Remember, if anyone can make 24 amazing, it’s you. You make shit happen.”

          That’s fucking right!

          “I know,” I smiled.

 
Previous: Commemorating 23 Next: 24 and Unidentifiable
 

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