I fear that I have gotten old. Yes, I did just go to Techie A's 30th birthday (and yes, I'm still in the first half of my year being 27). But what is making me feel old is not the fact that I now have friends who are "in their 30s." Nor is it the fact that I can barely say that I'm "in my mid-20's" any longer. I feel old because instead of going out for Halloween, I am sitting on my bed at 10pm, looking forward to taking my Nyquil (I am sick; I am not taking Nyquil for fun), and thinking about how obnoxious those kids yelling outside on Second Avenue are. The part of all this which makes me feel old is that I'm not the least bit upset about my evening (other than the being sick part), and I can barely remember the days when I would dress up (in party clothes, not Halloween clothes) and galavant about town till the wee hours of the morning. Sigh. The life of a girl in her "late 20s."
In other news, I moved! I don't remember if I mentioned the move in my last post. If not, prepare yourself for an (unpaid) endorsement: Moishe's Movers is the way to go! Moishe's men were swift and efficient. They took my IKEA bed apart at my old place and put it together at my new place as if it were a paint by numbers, rather than a maze created by the Swedes to weed out the geniuses. I now live in the tolerable part of the Upper East Side, and I adore it. I can walk to work (when I'm not running extremely late, which happens infrequently), run in the park, and take the bus! The bus is the second most glorious way to travel around Manhattan (second to walking), and I think that it is hugely underrated and underutilized by the common 20-something. Manhattan-dwellers, lend me your ears. Take the bus. It is lovely!
So Sister and I planned a nice little trip down to the B Family Timeshare in Orlando for her spring break in March. You may recall Sister and I went to "The Happiest Place on Earth" during my third year of law school and had a blast. We decided to relive the magic this year with a new destination: Harry Potter World, and some other guests in tow. I told Lady Friend we were going on a surprise vacation in March and that I wouldn't disclose the location of said vacation until some arbitrary future date, but I would give her hints along the way. I gave her a hint within the first three days (I'm a sucker, I know), and told her that we were not going alone. I also had told her the week in March to block off. Fast forward to day 3 of Lady Friend knowing I had a surprise for her: Pops is sitting in my new place, shooting the breeze with Lady Friend, while I am blow drying my hair and getting ready for a morning out. As I turn off the dryer, I hear Pops say to Lady Friend, "So, I hear you guys are going down to Orlando." My eyes pop out of my head as I hear Lady Friend respond, "We are??" And I peek outside the bathroom and see Pops trying to recover his lost ground. He says, "Oh, I thought Beth told me she was going; it must have been [Sister]." He then begins to tell Lady Friend about the week one of his daughters will be spending down in Orlando at the B Family Timeshare. I emerge from the bathroom and try to play it cool while saying, "Oh, Sister told me she's going to Orlando." Clearly amused, Lady Friend asks when this trip is happening, and I reply "February, I think." Pops says, "No, it's in March." I want to crawl under my amazing new shaggy rug. This, my friends, is what we call "Bluck."
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