I’m officially older

Yup, another birthday come and gone. And now I’m a year older. I haven’t gotten used to calling myself 27 yet, but I’ve only had to do it for two days, so that’s to be expected. I know that I am getting to be not-so-youngish because not one person who isn’t a close friend asked me how old I turned. I guess I have reached that age where it is considered impolite to ask. And there are the jokes about me finally being old enough to drink being meant as a compliment. Next I’ll be flattered to be carded.

My birthday, for being on a Monday, ended up being very nice. I took the train into the city to my still-new-enough-to-be-novel job, took a long lunch to eat at Paragon (not as nice as the San Jose one by the way) and to buy a skirt at my new favorite store Jeremy’s, and then took the train back to meet Dan, who was waiting with flowers, to take me to dinner at Tamarine in Palo Alto. No big party this year, but I am making a point this month, especially with the new job and all, to spend some quality time with them. That’s probably another sign of getting older: I am valuing one-on-one time with friends to really talk over big shindigs (and that I just wrote “shindigs”).

I have to say that I am pretty happy for where I am in my life at 27. That’s mostly what I thought about on this birthday: I am living the life that I want to live and I feel like I am on track. Where that track is going I have no idea, but I don’t feel like I am spinning my wheels or wasting my youth or any of that.

Another topic that popped into my head: what on earth did I do for my birthday last year when I turned 26? Thanks to my blog I remember that there was much drinking involved, along with some embarassing yelling (no, no blog link, but here are pics). My birthday weekend this year, I ended up skipping the holiday party that I went to last year even though I was hung over from my birthday celebration, and instead curled up in my pajamas and read a book. Things can change a lot in a year, huh?

As long as we’re going down that path, 25: Super-delicious dinner at Gary Danko with mom, Grandma, and the ex-boyfriend, staying at a nice hotel in San Franicsco overnight.

24: Flew to Germany on the spur of the moment to visit my dad and go to Rome, and spent the evening at a wine shop being fed glass after glass of wine and plate after plate of food even though I coudn’t keep my eyes open from the jet lag.

23 and 22: Absolutely no idea. Those years were rather unremarkable, unblogged, and no sets exist in Flickr.

21: Tuesday night pub crawl through the Univerisity District in Seattle with many other future tech writers, ending with the cliche hurling that night and cliche hang over the next day, causing me to be very late for my job at the College of Engineering advising center (but it was okay because they were all taking bets that I wouldn’t show at all).

<21: You got me.

Oh! I have been meaning to write a separate post about this, but probably won’t get around to it, but just had to brag that I met Curtis Stone, Take Home Chef and one of the 2006 Sexiest Men Alive according to Wikipedia, at the Redwood Room last Wednesday night. He was my first celebrity sighting ever, and not only did I talk to him (admittedly rather tipsily), he shared his duck wraps with me and Desiree. Nothing to do with turning 27, but had to mention it.

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4 responses to “I’m officially older

  1. Pingback: banane » Blog Archive » When I Got Old

  2. Happy Birthday!

    27 was right about the time when it became pronouncedly clear that I could not go out drinking all night, then eat a crazy greasy-spoon meal right before going to bed.

    It took me about three years to take that realization and translate it to reasonable action.

  3. Pingback: You Thought You Knew Me, but You Didn’t » Technology, Blogging and New Media

  4. Happy Birthday!

    I can relate. I’ll be turning 29 in March. It feels weird even writing it. When I turned 28 last spring, it was like I was still enviably young and in my prime, but very much sophisticated and grown-up at the same time. But something about turning 29 is scary. It’s like “Ooh, almost thirty, there’s no turning back now.” I can’t remember 27 at all.

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