On Being Thirty, Post #2

I do realize, though, that I am getting to that age where people have stopped asking how old I am.

Remember when you were younger and everybody asked you how old you were? "How old are you, Micaela?" "Tell Mommy how old you are." Etc, etc, ad nauseam, ad nauseam.

Then, remember, when you were twelve, and your next birthday was coming up? And then you could tell everyone, "I'm a TEENager." And then when you turned 18, and you could vote? And buy cigarettes? And then when you turned the GLORIOUS 21! you could DRINK!!? (Well, legally, anyway.)

When I turned 18, I couldn't wait to be old enough to buy beer. I didn't even like beer at the time, I just wanted to be able to buy beer. And then when I was old enough to buy beer, I realized I could buy better things, like rum and vodka. But everyone always asked how old I was. I got used to it. It was like my blankie from when I was younger. It was comfortable.

Then one day, I went to buy alcohol, and no one asked for my ID. OK, it was last weekend. The kid behind the counter took one look at me and decided that I was old enough in his mind to buy alcohol. Who is this kid to judge me and my age? I don't look 21! I look 18! Even if I am 25, I still could pass for 18. Couldn't I?

Alas, I cannot. I could maybe pass for 24, but I think that is even pushing it. Although a woman I used to work with was convinced that I was 24, but she wasn't that smart. So we can't really trust her opinion. So, instead I try to pass for 25, which is nice, because that is the age I feel like, and so when people ask my age, and I tell them 25, I don't feel like I am lying.

But seriously, when did people stop asking about my age? I know it isn't polite to ask people how old they are, especially women, but I haven't got to that age yet, have I?