I've been in a bit of a funk this week. Well, that's not quite accurate. It was more like a great big sucking slough of a funk. A "play that funky music, emo girl" funk. Funktastic. Funkalicious. A regular all-expenses-paid trip to Funkytown.
Woo-hoo! Good times!
Anyway, moving on from that, I was amused to discover this term in the Urban Dictionary:
Geriatric X: A person that was born in the early part of the generation X generation (1965-1981).
As I was born in 1971, I'm sure I qualify for this one. Dang. I mean, I knew I was getting older, but really, "geriatric?" It's how the kids think, though. My mother sometimes implores me to talk to my 16-year-old sister about things like college, claiming that my sister won't listen to a word she says, and I keep telling her that to a 16-year-old, there is no difference between 35 (my age) and 56 (my mother's age). We are equally old and uncool and incapable of understanding the problems of modern teenage life. I know this, because when I was my sister's age, my mother was the age I am now, and I thought all those things about her. By the time G is 16, I'll be 43, and she'll probably wish I would move into a retirement home and take my hopelessly out-of-date advice with me. It's the way of the world.