Sometimes I feel like I’ve aged ten years, but it’s only been two.
I’m 25. And I feel old. I’m not old, though. I mean, I’m old when I think of myself in conjunction with my 16 year old cousin, who is in a whole generation different than mine. When I was her age, people had pagers, not cell phones. Our teen idols didn’t get knocked up or pose half naked in Vanity Fair. Myspace didn’t exist or any of that weird social networking stuff.
Maybe settling down makes you old. Is it wrong that I would rather stay home and watch DVDs with Marques instead of going out to shake my booty? Or that I spent this past Friday night with my nose buried in a book (”Alternadad” by Neal Pollack, which pretty much told me what kind of parents Marques and I would be)? Hm. Maybe.
Tonight for Cinco de Mayo, I’m going to pluck a lot of cilantro from my herb garden and make chicken tacos for us. That is, if I can ever get home.
I’m exhausted. Poor decision on my lunch. We decided to go to International Square at the other Farragut West exit and we all gorged ourselves on bourbon chicken and rice. Too many carbs. I sucked down an iced mocha later hoping the caffeine would jumpstart my system but all it did was give me shaky hands. Too bad.
Sundays are the day when I get to sleep in, hang out under the covers until a ridiculous time, and then venture to my front door to grab the Sunday Washington Post. Then I promptly go back to bed and alternate between dozing off in the sunshine and reading the paper.
In the Washington Post Magazine today, they had an article about mothers and their past transgressions. It makes me wonder, if I ever become a mother, will I tell my children about puking up a half-gallon of cherry vodka in my sophomore year of college? I hope not. But I also wouldn’t want to out-and-out lie to them. Maybe my sad story of Jasmine throwing up on a frat house lawn will steer our children away from drinking.
I went to Target twice today, which made me feel bad because it wasn’t very green of me. Yesterday Marques and I went to Ikea to see about a coffee table. We go all the time to see if there’s anything in the as-is section. Also for 50 cent ice cream cones. Instead, we purchased a raw wood shelving unit for our laundry room and a metal ladder shelf for towels in our bathroom. When we got them home, we realized the wooden shelf needed a wrench, which is the one tool we don’t have. So this morning after reading the paper, I ran to Target to buy a wrench. I put together the shelf and was very proud of myself. Then I put the empty detergent bottle on the shelf and cussed up a storm. Stupid detergent.
So before I went to pick Marques up at the metro station, I went to Target AGAIN and bought laundry detergent. Seriously, this is my Sunday.
I’m really happy with the laundry room, though. We moved Waylon’s poopbox in there so we don’t have to watch him take a poop while we’re in the shower, and I think he likes it because it’s more private and closer to his food. Yay.
I made chicken and dumplings for dinner — they are delicious. I made a cucumber and tomato salad for lunch tomorrow with fresh cilantro, sea salt, and cracked black pepper. It is also delicious. Summer makes me want to bury my head into a watermelon and eat my way out.
