You're Only As Old As You Feel (Right??)

I have an August birthday. This meant two main things growing up. One - I got big time shafted when it came to celebrating birthdays in elementary school. I had to bring in my cupcakes on that "catch all" generic birthday day. Usually sometime in June. Two - I was always younger than most of the people in my class.

These were both negatives to me at the time. Point Two was particularly problematic as I approached the crucial ages of 16 and 21. There was nothing like being at the mercy of your for-all-intents-and-purposes same-aged friends for a ride to Taco Bell in their standard issue Chevy Cavalier or Pontiac Sunbird (it was GM country) or being left behind for the bar scene in college.

But something happened. Suddenly, I got old.

Now, I know 33 is hardly something to cry about. It's not like I have one foot in the grave or anything. But lately, I feel like the resident senior. All of those years of wishing I was a little older? Man, that would be nice, wouldn't it?

I bring this up because of my interaction with a girl in my hip hop class Monday night. As you know, Jen and I take adult hip hop. And it's awesome. Not only is it great fun to learn the various dance styles - it's an insane workout. On this particular Monday, Jen was a little later than usual. And I usually get there at least 15 minutes before class, so I was chatting with some of the girls in our class who were also early. I like to refer to one of these girls as "the Cheerleader." She's just so peppy and spunky. She's clearly skilled in other dance disciplines. And she's whiter than white. At first, she was a bit much to take (way too enthusiastic about everything). But she grew on me.

She hasn't been showing up as much this fall as she did last year. So I mentioned to her that I hadn't seen her as much. She said that was because she used to get rides from this other girl in the class who was away at college. And this is where I learned that the Cheerleader is a sophomore in high school! Holy bejeezus! Not only does she not remember "Rhythm Nation," the song we are using for our recital (yay!) - but that song came out about 3 years before she was even BORN!

I did the math. I could be the Cheerleader's mom. Really.