Random funny things about age:
Five years ago, I had a summer job working for SF Aidswalk. One day, I stopped at a bookstore to get a Newsweek, and began an conversation with the college kid behind the counter about the cover, which had to do with Iraq.
"It's really frightening," the college kid said, "because you know, my generation has never had to deal with being in a war before."
I had just turned thirty. Suppressing a smile (and the desire to tell her that I was still using a sippy cup when Vietnam ended), I headed back to the office to tell a coworker of about twenty-five what had happened.
"Oh, I would never think you were thirty," said coworker. "I mean, you look like you're my age, maybe."
I felt very elderly, and wise in the ways of war.
Anyway, this afternoon, I was reading a blog post by a Jewish activist I vaguely know from years back, who comments that a website she likes is geared to 'young women, like me'. This gal is at least four years my senior.
Does going on forty count as 'young'? Or did the Third Wave Feminists simply decide to be teenyboppers all our lives?
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