Of aging and life

 

All my life, I have wanted to grow up. Grow older. Be more sophisticated, do what the grownups do, eat what the grownups eat, go where the grownups go.

 

When I was 16, I wished I was 20. I had a miserable time in school, and hated studying subjects that did not interest me. I wanted to be 20, a college student, being carefree, wearing chic clothes and not the so-boring-can-die long brown skirt, beige shirt and maroon tie to school. I was in a prefect in school, and we had to endure the horrible prefect’s uniform. I don’t even know why being a prefect back then was so important to many of us. It was as if NOT being a prefect meant that you’re not good enough.

 

But I digress.

 

When I reached 20, I wanted to be 25. It was a cool, glamourous age. At 25, I could be earning my own money, buying whatever clothes I wanted, going out with friends, and not studying anymore. Basically having nary a care in the world.

 

But when I reached 25, I stopped wanting to be older. I was still studying (more like suffering) for my Masters. I was not “living the life”. Work was tiring. Working AND studying was a real killer. I don’t know how I survived it; driving to class immediately after work and trying to beat the horrendous traffic, sitting through hours of mind-numbing lectures and then driving home soooo tired I’d usually have a shower and drop right into bed.

 

I am now 27. I wake up and look at myself in the mirror, and I see lines that have never been there before. I am no longer the fresh-faced 20 year old. The crazy hair is still there, so is the crazy skin. But I know I’m not the same as I was 5 years ago, and it scares me, this whole aging thing. Although, I must say, in Italy, I look waaaaay younger than many other girls/women. I think most Asian women would look younger than Caucasians. Maybe its coz of their dressing/makeup. A few of HB’s friends have expressed surprised that “your wife is soooo young!” to which he usually says “she’s not as young as she looks” Bleargh *rolls eyes*

 

I now prefer to stay at home and chill in front of the tv, or perhaps with a good book or a good glass of wine. Back then, weekends were spent OUT of the house; window shopping, makan-makan. Now, when the HB asks me what we’re gonna do during the weekend, I really do mean it when I say I’m contented staying at home  But we always try to make it a point to go some place different every weekend. We went for a nice lunch today at Al Grottino in the city center. I had Risotto al Porcini (risotto +mushroom) for the first dish, and Scallopini with balsamic vinegar as the second. And mannnnn, was I full or what! But of course we had room for a shared dessert; profiterole. I was soooo itching to take pictures, but there was a couple next to us, and I didn’t want to seem too touristy/idiotic

 

After that hearty meal, we walked to Blockbuster where they rent movies, and we picked out Sex and The City (The Movie) which I’ve wanted to watch for the longest time and The Usual Suspects, which lots of people seem to be raving about.

 

And when we got home, we plopped ourselves in front of the TV and watch SATC, and here I am now, writing this. Contented as can be.

 

I wonder whether things will change as I grow even older. I dread those lines and everything going south but I know its inevitable. Thing is, how do I do it gracefully? And will other things change too? How do you handle change?