Ticking Away the Moments

I can't remember which gathering it was, but during some event we hosted at our house over the holidays I had a conversation with someone older and much wiser than myself about our perceptions of time. Apparently, as we age, the amount of space memories and experiences take up in our physical brains gets smaller, so we actually perceive time to pass more quickly. Another effect of aging to join these expanding laugh lines! But I do find myself more frequently uttering, “How is it already Thursday?” and, “Holy cow, it’s almost February?” and, “Where did 2018 go?!”

I've had the luxury of being able to take extended weekends to appreciate the natural beauty of Colorado, to travel and explore new cities and savor new flavors, visit family all across the country, and relax in far-away places, and wouldn't trade those moments for anything. But, in order to truly cherish the beautiful moments, you can’t trade the icky ones either. The joy inherent in a reunion with a sweet friend also requires a goodbye.

With Bosco’s age becoming more apparent on a daily basis, last week I found myself thinking fondly of the days his boundless energy and destructive teeth wreaked havoc on our bedroom furniture. Something I would never have considered in the moment I was researching whether it was possible to smooth out and refinish walnut with chunks gnawed out of it!

I have also found myself nostalgic for days when all I had to do was get through piles of homework assignments and make sure the dishwasher was emptied when it was clean. I remember constantly feeling stressed and overwhelmed during high school and college, longing for the day when I’d have a job that didn’t involve bringing any work home, and I could enjoy my evenings and weekends – ha! I would love the ability to settle down with an interesting book and read for hours without feeling guilty about all of the things I should be doing instead.

Perceived speed aside, I did need the sage reminder that you only get to experience this life once, and each piece of it – beautiful or bitter – contributes to the tapestry you are weaving.

Don't Make Me Live for my Friday Nights

Approaching the last week of my twenties, I attended a birthday celebration for a dear friend. It was a fairly intimate group that gathered for dinner on Saturday evening on Pearl Street, and after dinner we went to the new bar Press Play. It's a basic arcade bar, with lots of classic Atari games (BG had the high score on the Centipede console for a while) and some fun pinball machines. We had been there before, but not really on a weekend night, or when students were in town. It got packed pretty quickly, and there was more than one moment when I had the thought "I think I am getting too old for this..."

I was lamenting this fact when somebody else at our table said something along the same line. We laughed at our observation, and throughout the night added to the list of things that we found ridiculous about our situation.

You know your twenties are over when...
1.) You think the music is loud before the DJ is completely set up.
2.) You think the waitress pushing jello shots needs to put some pants on.
3.) The 2x4 Jenga game collapsing onto the concrete floor makes you wonder if ear plugs would be prudent.
4.) You think the pool tables are too close together, because you can hear the guys playing next to you talking about getting arrested.
5.) You are glad you skipped the heels and opted for something with less character because you know your feet would be killing you all weekend.
6.) You wonder if she is wearing a shirt or a dress.
7.) You think all of the boys in the room need a haircut and a new razor.
8.) You don't get carded at the bar.
9.) You see somebody you might recognize from high school, and realize that was 15 years ago, and it's most probably not them.
10.) You can't imagine sticking around for last call.

Sometimes I think I have hung on to some amount of youth, and then I have a night like this and realize that I am facing 30 head-on. And, honestly, I am okay with that.