seratonin

Sooo...I'm 25, which means soon it will be time to start making grandbabies.

WTF?

Yeah. So this year, I'm the oldest girl in the G-rock crew. Last year, there was a hot 28-year-old, and another friend of mine who was 3 months older...which is at least something. They're both gone now, so I'm part of a team that is heavily weighted by nubile 20-year-olds. Then you have Party and Erin (scroll down for picture) who are barely 23, and my two supervisors, who are both a few months younger than myself.

My convocation is this Tuesday...please don't let me trip on the stage...and I am dreading the questions about what I'm doing now. Well, I'm a server and a bartender in my muthafucking hometown. Not exactly what I thought I'd be doing by now, but I'm also not exactly ashamed of it.

The other day, one of the 20-year-olds commented, "Wow Sar, you really don't look 25. I totally thought you were 21." Which is a super sweet thing to say, but is it A) because I'm pretty pale and don't have fake-n-bake wrinkles, B) because I regularly pluck out the 12 or so grey hairs from my temples, then dye it all just to be sure, or C) because one would assume a person in my position would be 21?

Here's the thing...I have lived my life somewhat in reverse. ***WARNING: LIFE STORY ALERT***

The day high school ended, I moved to Toronto with a guy who was my best friend at the time...and we'd started dating and had been together a couple of months. Obviously not the best idea to start living together, because I wasn't all like "OH MY GOD I HAVE TO LIVE WITH MY BOYFRIEND", I just hated living at home and he needed a roommate. So that was that.

I worked a crappy job for a year and a half at the Scarborough Town Centre (that's right, bitch! I'm ghetto!) before I scored a job downtown that I had absolutely no qualifications for, yet somehow worked my way from data entry clerk to receptionist to office manager to director of operations within 7 months..quit for 5 months due to office politics (read: the cops came to break up a fight between my married bosses, one of whom was pregnant and refusing to test her blood sugar levels...twas scary) and came back as senior web developer. I moved to an expensive apartment in North York (with the boy) for a year before we bought a house when I was 21.

Yes, you heard/read right. I bought a house. With my (ex)boyfriend. I lived there for 2 whole months before I realized my life was way beyond where I was ready to be at that point.

So I became a makeout slut, realized I wasn't being fair to either of us, and moved back home.

I started college 4 years after I graduated high school. Most people in my class were my age, but I was the only one without prior post-secondary skillz. So I didn't feel like a MILF or anything then...but I kinda do now that so many of my friends are younger than I am.

But I realized today, as I was sitting there taking my morning smash, that if you take away all the stuff I did in the "wrong" order (everything I did when I didn't live at home), that I am ACTUALLY 21.

Which makes me pretty fucking cool, and anyone who wants to make out with me may send their formal requests starting NOW.



P.S. (As if this post needs to be longer...) I forgot, Michael Douglas was golfing at Greystone yesterday. Yeah, that Michael Douglas. So of course we're all hiding around the corner watching him. He caught Party and me looking. We made eye contact with the actor that has turned into an old woman. And I swear to god, dudes...I caught him picking his nose with his thumb. OOOOOOHH you sexy fucker.