Well, I can’t get a cell phone with a Chicago number until I actually get to Chicago. Only about another week, though, so no big deal. I ran a bunch of other errands quite successfully today. Went to Staples and bought some blank invoices to use until I get my printer fixed or buy a new one, sharpies, ballpoint pens, and Avery Dots for marking just about anything int he studio. And so, my assisting gear is complete! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!
*ahem* Please disregard that last thing.
Tonight at my welding class I was having a good conversation with my instructor (and specifically notwelding…hehehe), and the subject of my age came up. I told him I was 22 and you’d think I had just told him the single most amazing thing he had heard in his entire life. He couldn’t believe it. Apparently he thought I was at least 28. Not so much based on my looks as on my behavior and the way I “carried” myself.
And I wonder if there is really any logic behind the abrasive remark “Act your age!” Seriously – what is age? Age is a number, a figment of our imagination that has become rather standardized as a way to measure certain things in a person’s life. But as I see it, it’s absolutley worthless when it comes to determining what level a person is operating on in terms of maturity, intelligence, and so on. If you’re a certain age, people seem to expect you to act a certain way.
It’s really pretty stupid, if you ask me. Shouldn’t what we expect from a person be based on what they’ve done in the past and little else? Perhaps a little expectation for improvement if someone sucks at being a personn, but even then you wouldn’t expect Pauly Shore to act like James Earl Jones….or something.
The point is that age is a funny thing. People usually think I’m at least 5 or 6 years older than I am, sometimes as much as 15 years older than I am. On the other hand, I know people who are the same age as me or older, but who are constantly being pegged for being 16 year olds.
Thus ends the train of thought.
