14 October 2015


A guy at a coffee shop the other day said, "You have shiny jeans."

"I do," I said.

"I like them," he said.

Cue discussion of whether I'm too old to wear them, which is a joke. I laugh about but refuse to care about such rules. He said, very seriously, that he doesn't think anyone is too old to wear sparkles, as long as they want to wear them. (Then he said that I don't look my age, which was just politeness I'm sure, but is actually worrying me a bit as I look for jobs. I don't want to look like I'm too young to handle some fairly substantial responsibility.)

It was the second conversation of the day about age. In both of them, the conclusion was that things get better every year. Certainly I feel like I am a little wiser every year, however dearly that wisdom was purchased.

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