There are two kinds of ages. There’s one kind that just sort of passes, I call them the “awkward ages” (19, 22). Then there are those that feel like age milestones. We’re all familiar with the sweet sixteen, the becoming legal at 18, and the becoming “universally legal” at the age of 21. The first age milestone that I remember was when I turned 13. “I’m a teenager now” was the thrilling thought that would enter my head. After that was 16, when I felt like it was about time that I started doing some teenager-y things. Funnily enough my 18th birthday wasn’t really an age milestone for me, but actually it was the 19th. It was the end of my teenage years and I felt like I hadn’t really made the most of them (so I got busy making up for lost time. Phew that was a crazy year.) Then the next would be the age that I am now, 25. For the past six years I’ve felt like I was stuck feeling like I was still 19 years old, but now I finally feel like my own age.
Everyone has their opinion about being in your 20s. The internet is filled with articles on what we in our 20s should and should not do, the kinds of career advice that people our age should be hearing, stuff like that (if thoughtcatalog went into your head then you need to leave. Like, right now.) It’s kind of tiring, really, wanting to listen to the wise words of people that you respect that have been where you are now but also making sure that you make it your own and never just live your life the way that you think the world expects you to. I love being in my 20s, but these days I just cannot wait to be 30. Thirty sounds good right about now.
My birthday this year was really great, though. I haven’t really had a birthday party since my 20th because my birthday is in August and in the Philippines August usually means that the city is slowly getting drowned by twenty million typhoons and tropical depressions. So as much as I would like to make a fuss about my birthday every year, people have more important things to think about usually hahaha. This year my housemate and I decided to throw a joint party in the week in between our birthdays, mine being August 7 and hers being July 17. So imagine 10 different sets of friends. Chaos ensued. It was a good night.
My birthday week was pretty insane. My birthday was on a Wednesday, and the Sunday before that I was working. Monday, I was working until 8am the next day, preparing for an important pitch. Tuesday morning I got home at 9:30am, showered, gussied up, and was picked up by the company driver. Five minutes after we left our place, my boss texts saying the pitch was moved to the next day due to the heavy rains. So yes, I woke up early and had a pitch on my birthday. C’est la vie. So I went home and was wide awake, God knows why, so I slept a bit and was talking to a friend on the phone and so I was up until I had to leave for my birthday salubong at 9pm, and of course I couldn’t sleep anymore, blah blah blah you get the picture.
Apparently I kept telling everyone at my salubong that I hadn’t slept in 36 hours, and I didn’t even realize that I just kept saying that over and over again. I guess that was the only thing running through my head the whole time, hahaha. It was such a chill night, with good friends and good company and good conversation, and really it was all I would have wanted to greet in another year of my life.
So only four hours of sleep and then an early ass pitch the next day on my birthday itself wasn’t the most ideal way to spend my birthday but at least I was home by lunch time and my boss even bought me a gift! Ysabel took me out for early dinner/any excuse to have sushi at Roku in Katipunan and guyssss you have to eat there but that’s a blog entry for another day.
Birthday dinner with the family was at Sariwon Korean BBQ in the Fort, worth every penny because everything tasted authentic and delicious. I was sang happy birthday to in Korean, which was surreal but hilarious, and I think there’s a video of it somewhere out there in the world. It’s very awkward to get sung to in restaurants. The song goes on for quite a while and the initial shock of a bunch of people surprising you with a song and a cake wears of after five seconds. So them you’re left with just another minute of looking around and… not really knowing what to do.
We had coffee afterwards and we chilled and we talked any they gave me pressies! and it was just a good day and a good night overall. At that point the hours I’d been awake were like x6 of the hours I had spent sleeping, but I don’t get to celebrate my birthday as much as I’d like to so I didn’t really want to be miss any of it. Screw sleep! I’ll sleep when I’m dead!
Being 25 feels like a milestone age for me. Somehow, I finally feel 25. For six years I felt like I was some teenager who was being given more and more responsibilities and whom higher and higher expectations were being subjected to and I could never really catch up. It’s a recurring topic amongst me and my friends about the differences that we feel with our bodies now that we’re getting a little bit older. Twenty five is young compared to the bigger picture but man I sure do feel old whenever I think of the time when I was actually nineteen as opposed to just feeling like I’m nineteen.
But it’s all good. I’m enjoying getting older. I’m enjoying knowing better and being able to look at myself six years ago and be happy with where I am now. Not yet satisfied, sure,I mean who is, really? But happy. I feel older and I’m okay with that. Not to mention that feeling like you’re getting out of your quarterlife crisis just as you turn 25 is also considered a good thing. Man, just thinking about two years ago is making me shudder.
But with all that being said, let us never forget that we all need, from time to time, to have experiences that will still make us feel like this:
As a matter of fact, let me get right on that right now.