Entry 15 : Becoming A Jaded Old Asian Lady

The idea of being “old” is subjective: some consider the age of 30 to be old, others think of 50 as over the hill.  And then there are those who believe that one’s attitude towards life defines the perceived youth, regardless of actual age.

With that being said, the older I get, I find myself being a jaded old Asian lady, more often than not.

Case in point: husband and I went out to eat at this restaurant/bar in the University district a few months ago. The place was full of college kids: sorority girls who wore short shorts that hugged just above cusp of their butts, and were matched with off-the-shoulder sweaters that labeled the Greek sorority letters of “Alpha Beta Phi”. Or was it Alpha Beta Zeta? I know there is probably some sister out there who, slightly offended, is like… “actually, it says Beta Sigma Chi”, and to that person I say, “whatever. I really don’t care”.

There were also the frat boys who wore hats that said “Pimpin” sideways on their head and sunglasses inside the restaurant because they saw a rapper do it in a music video so surely it wasn’t an idiotic thing to do.

And then  there were other kids who were neither sorority or frat, but who were just hungry for the burrito that – at this point in their lives  – would not result in a weight gain of any sort

These young adults were so full of hope and a sense of optimism; seeing them in the vibrancy of their youth made me want to  roll my eyes and just be like, ugh…..  I hated that I felt that way, but I couldn’t help it.  Perhaps it was because I had been like them once: so innocent of the world, full of dreams, and with no concern for existing credit card debt, paying mortgages, or the fact that poop needed to picked up on Mondays because Tuesdays was trash day.

More so than that, these young people represented a time in my life when I was insecure, overly shy, and so concerned with what the world thought; there are so many things I wish I had done differently. Like, I wish that when sitting next to Brandon Roy (UW  basketball player back in the day, went on to play for the Trailblazers)  in anthropology class, I hadn’t been such a dork with my “So you play basketball… are you any good?” line. Shit,  I very well knew he played basketball, and very well knew he was the best player on the team.  He never sat next to me again, probably because he was like this chick is weird . I sigh in regret every time I think of this interaction; it could have been the start of a friendship that would have opened up a friendship with other basketball players.

While there are other shoulda, coulda, woulda moments from my formative years that I wish I could do over, what I have learned  in growing older is that I can either sit and sulk in regret, which will undoubtedly lead me further into a pathway of jadedness and get me no where in life, or I can look at every experience with a sense of gratitude for teaching me a life lesson that has helped me grow into a better person. My choices – good and bad – have led me to the road that I am in now. Which to be honest, is a road that is blessed beyond measure.

And so, when in the midst of young people who are living in the vibrancy of their youth, I remind myself this: I had my time; this is their time. Besides, life now is great, I may be older and may have lost my limberness and some perkiness in my boobs, but at least I’m not {as} naive and broke. Well  – I personally am broke,  because I technically don’t have a job, but as a combined income with my husband…. well…. you know what I mean.

 

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Entry 15 : Becoming A Jaded Old Asian Lady

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