Bellen!
In the past few weeks, it has finally hit me: I am a grownup now.
Let me caution that I am only 28. Those older than me might say "I'm just a baby," but I had a conversation last night with the landlord/good friend and a temporary roommate who is finishing up his dissertation in chemistry at a local university.
Dissertation guy said that after 25, many people start to realize this and gain some sense of maturity -- they don't stay out as late, and start to settle down. There of course are many exceptions and there are many people, especially gay men, who stay in a state of perpetual adolescence/young adulthood, or at least try to. He also said that time will continually speed up.
I have never really been one to stay out all night, and I mostly stay at home on weeknights. There's PBS and the Colbert Report on the Internets to keep me entertained. An anectdote that is often repeated in my family is that my first pediatrician, from Nigeria, said that I was a "serious" baby. My first-grade teacher was worried that I didn't socialize or play with a lot of the other kids; I told my mother that the kids played stupid games that I wanted no part of.
My high school reunion is in June. It's been 10 years. Nineteen ninety-nine didn't seem so long ago, but looking back, it's hit me that the past is creeping up on me. On Facebook, I see so many associates and friends who are at various stages of their lives: married, with successful careers.
My sister is married and has a niece who will be 2 soon.
I recently had a moment that really made me realize that I'm getting older, and so are my folks, even though they're only in their 50s. My mother had to have surgery on her elbow; dad was in a car wreck. Both are doing better, but I was really really worried for them and ran to Columbia, S.C. to see them. It was nice to simply help them out, get my mom out of the house, and to just watch some BBC America with them, staying at home all the while except going out for a trip to the Evil Empire, also known as Wal-Mart.
While at their house, I looked through some of the old family picture albums that existed (are these going to go by the wayside in the digital age?) for years. Those old pictures, though, seem further and further in the past, and I see a very young Reporter-Cub and sister. The nostalgia for the past and a simpler time hit me. I never thought it would.
I came home and I was incredibly depressed. I used to be in a hurry to get to the next destination, but I honestly wouldn't have left so early in the morning if I had air conditioning in my car (the day was quite hot). I really didn't want to leave. I realized that they're not going to be around forever. I feel incredibly guilty for not just visiting them more often, but also my grandparents.
Despite some ups and downs, my life has turned out pretty good in most respects. I am gainfully employed in a job that's pretty good and for the most part, secure, if my thinking is correct. I am in graduate school, working for a degree that will hopefully pull in more money for me in the future, though I probably won't finish until late 2010 or early 2011 (I hoped to be done before the age of 30; that may not happen). My familial relations are good. I have a good romantic relationship for which in the first time in my life, I can honestly see myself with the person for a long, long time, and in which I have found a best friend, lover, and confidant.
Growing older's pretty good, actually.
