The chosen one

As ive grown older ive found myself saying things i wouldnt have dreamed of saying when i was in my late teens, early twenties.

"Look, I just don't think he's that into you " .

This phrase could've spared loads of girls some pretty embarrassing moments, but no, we were far too dreamy to realize that if the guy didn't ring you in a week, he was probably never gonna ring.. EVER! Now, since we feel time is running out, and we don't have time to wait by the phone, it gets used pretty frequently.

"I think I have to rearrange my pension scheme"

Time stood still back then. You were invincible, the centre of the universe, untouchable and definately NOT growing old. You sneered at the older siblings of friends, "Gooood you're so OLD" as soon as someting remotely responsible came up in conversation. In recent years I've found myself thinking "Hmmm... what does the stockmarket say in Hong Kong?"

"We're old enough to choose our friends"

Back when you were seven you were put together with a bunch of strangers who followed you for nine years until you were able to choose school and direction yourself. If you were lucky those people turned out to be really good friends, but often some of them would annoy you so much during maths you'd dream of winning the lottery and sending them on a one way trip on the trans siberian railway.

My chosen friends are the most beautiful people I know. They are caring, funny, empathetic, interesting, genuine and I have hand picked them carefully over the years, grateful of the fact I've found such amazing people.
But most of all I am grateful that they have chosen me, and for that I will always feel lucky.

"Yes. That IS me in my passportpicture"

A few weeks back I went to buy a small present for my girlie friend D. Had to pay with my credit card and so the sales assistant asked to see proof of ID. Since I lost my drivers license about a year ago (yes I know, should sort it, got the paperwork just not the energy) I had to show my passport which in Sweden is not that common to walk around with. She looked at the the passport and then said with disbelief in her eyes "Were you really born in 1979?" I got dead paranoid thinking she thought it was fake or something. "Eeeeh, yeah that's me in the picture." "Really?? You look like you're 24! 25 tops!"
Left the shop feeling pretty good.

Fast forward to last week when I was off to the UK for some festival times with my best friend S.
Went through security and slipped my passport to the young guy sitting in the glass cage.
"Sorry, but are you really 29?" (What the hell??) "Yeah that IS me in my passportpicture" fidgeting slightly. "Oh. Gotta ask. Whats your secret?" "I party a lot"

Maybe its not so bad turning 30 after all. At least not if you look like a 24 year old, 25 tops!