With two anniversaires (an-ee-vers-err: birthdays) to celebrate this weekend, I've been meditating over two very important thoughts: first, merci à Dieu (mehr-see ah dee-ue: thank God) for Skype, Facebook, and the Internet in general for reminding me of birthdays and letting me get in touch with people overseas; second, I and everyone I know are getting old(er).
Let me explain.
Saturday I waited around until a decent California hour to wish my boyfriend's mom a bon annivesaire (bohn an-ee-vers-err: happy birthday). While talking to her about party plans, I also did my usual Skype multi-tasking ritual of Facebook stalking when I came across a very useful tidbit of information: Sunday was the birthday of my Italian colocataire (co-lohc-a-ter: roommate). So thanks to the infinite wisdom of Facebook to inform me of every single bit of information that my Facebook friends would otherwise not want me to know, I was able to have a little birthday surprise setup for said roommate when she woke up and walked into the kitchen this morning.
Sitting around the kitchen table watching the birthday girl blowing out her lone bougie anniversaire (boo-gee an-ee-vers-err: birthday candle) while comparing lesson plans and paychecks, I couldn't help but briefly be terrified by the fact that here we were, a birthday girl and her new-found friends eating pasta and chocolate eclairs and discussing our work lives. I couldn't help but think to myself: how did I get so old?
Sure, me and my roommates are still in the "young" as far as it goes, but when I told my class of high school students my age they gasped in horror.
"What?" I asked, "Is that old?"
"Yes, if you want to know the truth" a student responded.
"Umm, well... thanks for being honest."
And to think that just three years ago I couldn't even drink a glass of wine legally. One of the perks of being older? Now I have the power to flunk that student if I want to.
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