I am now about 9 days away from turning 28 and I have a few things to say about 27 and the future.
My 27th year on this earth was actually pretty good. We lost JD, but we got Duke. I finally became a “Pastor’s Kid” as my mom took up the “Call”. I got, what is basically, a dream job as the Web Editor of WestJet’s up! magazine. And Leah, as far as I know today, still loves me and has loved me all year. A good year. But I’m not feeling so positive about the year ahead.
Moving Towards 28
I could be wrong (unlikely), but I can’t help but suspect that 27 is the last year I can fit in with the younger 20s. I’m just going to say it—if there was ever an opportunity to make out with a twenty-something, you basically have to do it before you leave 27.
Once you hit 28, that’s it for you. You’re part of the old crowd. You drink wine now and maybe martinis when you’re feeling fancy. You only make out with 30 year olds. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I think you might start feeling nostalgic and like you wished you had made out with more twenty-somethings. I’m not saying that I do, I’m just saying you might. Totally innocent.
28 is an awkward age
The problem with 28 is that everyone basically thinks you’re old or an asshole. First, (as mentioned) the cute, young girls all think you’re old. It’s been 10 years since you’ve been in high school and there is no 18 year old alive today that can imagine life beyond next week—let alone make out with you. You might as well be 80. Plus, do you realize that cute 18 year old’s were born in the 90s? THE NINETIES!
And now all your 30+ year old friends think your an asshole. When you’re 29, people either make fun of you because you’re about to turn 30 or feel sad for you because you’re about to turn 30. But no one likes a 28 year old. You’re that asshole that still has 2 years before you feel the sharp pains of age and imminent death (in 40+ years hopefully).
I’m not ready for 28
As Leah speeds towards 30 in October, I am digging my heels in and trying to slow down before I turn 28. Leah’s lucky. She has me to keep her young and feeling like she might still be in her 20s. But not me. Leah drags me up a couple years. Men die earlier as it is (generally). I don’t understand why she has to drag me into old age so soon. It’s rude frankly.
So, here’s to me. Turning 28. The asshole. Ladies don’t love me and hopefully, after reading this post, Leah won’t leave me. Salute.