Sunday, March 1, 2009


I have never really freaked out about getting older. I graduated from college a tad earlier than most of my friends so I was one of the younger ones in my higher college courses, plus I was the youngest at my job while I was in college and the youngest in my college internship. Then when graduating and going to work at the paper in SLC I was the youngest there for a few years, and then when I was pushed out of that role I became a part of a group that was identified and treated as the "young journalists." From the minute I graduated college up until I hit 26 I found myself lying about my age to sources and professional acquaintances to increase my years, and thus, increase my credibility (yes, I had people ask my age. A lot.) And now, at my latest job, again, I am the youngest in my department. So feeling old has never really been an issue for me. But lately, despite my long tenure as the "young one," I have started to recognize tell tale signs that I am still well on my way to Ensure and Depends.

I listen to news and talk radio more than I listen to music in the car
I don't get boys wearing skinny jeans
I judge people that dye their hair wild colors
I think 97.6 percent of high school kids these days look like they just got out of bed and might smell a little.
I have wanted to yell, when looking at a group of boys/young men, "Pull your pants up, you hoodlums!"
I consider it a late night if I am not in bed by midnight.
When asked why I don't want to go out on a given night, I now feel that "because I went out last night" should be a viable excuse
I have found myself devoting significant thought to the weather strip, or lack thereof, on my front door, cleaning out vents, tire pressure, UV rays, lawn fertilizer, air quality and house plant health.
I insist those who ride with me wear a seat belt because I am carrying precious cargo.
I care about things like fiber, antioxidants and triglycerides.
I know more high school teachers than I know high school students.
I refer to my bum ankle as "an old college injury."
I have hesitated doing trampoline flips because I don't want to hurt myself.
I get ready in the morning to the sound of news anchor banter instead of Beyonce
I have forgotten the names of people I went to high school with that were my friends.
I fully plan on being her in the not so far future....


amelia said...

So your hair ends up...curly?

doug said...

Well, you're still the bee's knees, Grandpa Tiff.

Kate said...

couldn't have said it better myself...

Lo said...

Too late. I already am her, so the job's taken.
Loved it, Tiff.

Jacelle said...

I actually just came across the old man phrases the other guys..

doug said...

I think the old man phrases ought to make an appearance in a blog post!

Amanda May said...

Can I be like her too...with you??? I want to yell hoodlums too!

Courtney said...

Dad? When did you start a blog? Better yet who told you about the internet?

amy said...

what about when it's a late night because you're not in bed by 10 p.m. and you don't want to go out because you did last week? Or the week before? I guess what I'm saying gets worse. And I am younger than you.
And how come I'm not one of your friends on the side of your blog? Humph.