Old age

Today my mom asked me how old I will be at my next birthday (which us this weekend). She wasn't sure if I was turning 30 or 31. Now, granted, this was in person...i like to think she could have figured it out, especially since my dad's birthday was only 5 days ago and I'm pretty sure she remembers his age, and he is 30 years older than me (much like I am 30 years older than my kids!).

I can't help being a little insulted though. I am her oldest kid. Shouldn't she remember how old I am??

My minor confession though: I sometimes screw up my age. I default to 26 (hahaha) or my wife's age....and she is a year older than me. At least I can remember how old she is.

I think I am at that point age really is just a number that doesn't matter a bit.

I am not old yet

Elderly??

I don't super love the term Advanced Maternal Age, though I more or less follow the reasoning....and I am sure it wouldn't fit on the form. But ELDERLY???

anticlimatic & strange

Two very different topics:

Anti-climatic:
Sort of. I'm not really into birthdays, but there is something a little weird about being in a hotel room in a strange city by yourself on your birthday. It was a pleasant enough day for being at a Boring (yes, capital) conference, and I did get about a million facebook happy bdays, a couple of texts, 2 emails, and, not to be forgotten, a phone call from my parents about an hour ago. Lets note that its almost 9 pm. And we're in the same time zone. But whatever...I obviously got my ambivalence about birthdays (and holidays in general) from somewhere :)

Strange:
This hotel. Its nice. Its kind of fancy-smancy, the kind of place where people who can't afford the Ritz (which is pretty much next door) have fancy-smancy downtown weddings. High ceilings and crystal chandeliers.
And the smallest hotel rooms I've ever seen. As a disclaimer, most of the hotels I stay in are conveniently located outside of a city, near the airport and a large park with uprights, so I'm not sure how big "city" rooms usually are. That said, the towels here are rougher than those at the ComfortInn. Ugh.

But check out my door. Weird box protruding off of it...its on both sides, on every door to a room. What do you think it is?

I initially thought perhaps it was a fire-door upgrade (since this building is quite old...you can tell in the molding, besides the architecture). But there's a little lock/knob thing...

I guess not every hotel guest feels the need to unlock it, because it took about 5 minutes of jiggling (plus moving the regular handle to the deadbolt-locked position) to open it.
So, what is it?




Answer: Its a Servidoor. Apparently this structure at one time was common enough in fancy-smancy hotels (see above) to have a brand name. The sign inside of it basically instructs you to leave your clothes in there for the Laundry or Valet. There's even a clamp on the right for your sleeve (also labeled, not a random guess), presumably so it doesn't get stuck in the door.

Wikipedia says a valet (besides the car driving kind) is a male servant that deals with your personal goods...but that doesn't really explain for me why I'd leave my clothes (well, if I was a male living 80 or 100 years ago) hanging in my door at the hotel for him...

good housekeeping

This (little gem of a guide) is also printed (almost word for word) in an encyclopedia style cookbook my mom has (which has some really good, but really time consuming recipes). It was her mom's.

My favorite line is "he is master of the house...you have no right to quesiton him". Did women of the 50's really not cringe at that?

How do you know you're an adult?

I have found two clear lines:

1) Cool summer weather is not disappointing, but a blessing (especially when it falls on moving day). Doesn't matter to me if its 60 degrees out at night and the pool water is getting chilly. I haven't even been in a pool (well, a non-hotel pool) all summer. Or last summer. And weather in the 70s? OK!

2) You need movers. There is a point in everyone's life when its just not practical anymore to scrounge up friends/acquaintances/anyone you know who likes beer and pizza enough to haul boxes and furniture out of one apartment and into another. This point is clearly demarkated when said friends would hate you forever after spending their entire day on said move (especially when it involves two flights of steep, narrow stairs and a pretty substantial amount of furniture that has never seen a dorm room).

Hello late-20s.

oh, prom

I had an interesting discussion with an old friend last night, who was lamenting the fact that the majority of her friends have gone from single to married/otherwise seriously involved in the past two years. While that's only about 50% true (and hence more of a perception), my arguement that its not a factor of said friends 'changing' but a factor of the fact that said friends are in their mid-20s+ fell on deaf ears.

Anyway, the less frustrating part of the conversation turned to her randomly running into my HS prom (and date-night) date at some corporate drinks event. Appearently he's going to Harvard Business School next year and got married recently. And I saw this card on Postsecret this morning, and kind of want to send it to him to see if he knew. But I don't have his email (and haven't seen the guy in 8 years, aside from 5 min at the Thanksgiving football game a couple years back), so obviously I can't. Oh well :)

ok, so...

I start work on Monday. This is excellent for a few reasons:
a) I'm broke
b) I'm broke
c) I'm bored
d) I'm really unproductive when I have nowhere to be

And I think I'm really going to like my office and it'll be a good position for a couple of years. I figure I'll have to stay in some capacity at Penn for 5 yrs or so if I opt to go for it and pursue an Ed.D. starting this spring (and figure if I should take out more loans to cover the taxes on that or what....)....but that's ok. I think I like Philadelphia. I've seen more of it the last few weeks since school ended, and its pretty cool. Its amazing how much time school takes up (which makes me not terribly excited to do a doctorate part time but I'll cross that bridge when the time comes).

I'm also kind of hoping going back to the working world gives me more time for my extracurricular life, er, rugby. This year I missed two games and probably half a dozen practices, which is about what I missed in the last 6 years. I may not be a super-star (or even a plain star) but at least I'm reliable (that count for something, right?). While I have a horrid guilt complex, the priority shifting that paying massive tuition (read: over a year's salary) brings also inadvertently helped me realize its ok to not make rugby tops all the time. Given the time of year, I haven't seen any rugby people in weeks (which is true, though I doubt it was noticed since I didn't really have the opportunity to hang out this season anyway)...and there were actually events the last two weekends, but I missed them for long-standing plans with family. That priority shift probably is a good thing, seeing as I hardly ever see the family and noones getting any younger...

i'm a youngin!

So according to realage.com, I'm not quite fully legal...

Calendar Age 25.4
Difference -5.1
My RealAge 20.3

I think this is terrific. That's a full 20% off! The test gave me recommendations for better health, like flossing more and cutting down on the red meat I have a couple of times a week, but I'm not too concerned. Wearing my seatbelt and exercising regularly keep my age down way more than flossing would!

Speaking of exercise, I ran a 5 mi race (43:07) this weekend at a better pace than my last 5k in March (27:45)...guess all those intervals on the treadmill are paying off! I have a bit of a love-hate relationship with running.....I don't like it much in general, but where else are you just competing with yourself (seeing my blazing speed, its not like I'm an Olympic contender)? I'm still patting myself on the back a little bit about this little victory : )