19 never, 29 twice

As my birthday swiftly approaches I can't help but be reminded of the fact that I'm extremely young for my age. Not only am I the youngest of the Cfriends, but I'm the youngest by nine months. (That's enough time to have a baby! any one of my cfriends could get pregnant on their birthday and their baby would have a birthday before I had mine; but I digress). While this may be a plus in a few very rare situations (though none come immediately to mind), it is, for the most part, kind of a drag. Let me tell you, there's nothing better than going off to college and meeting a cute guy. . . then quickly reaching the mutual understanding that he's a grad student and you're jail-bait. it's awesome. Oh, and curfews, they're fantastic.

In a recent conversation with my friend Kaitlyn, she brought to my attention that she was very excited to soon be turning 20 because 19 is an extremely awkward year. And she's right; 19 is the fifth wheel of the post-adolescent experience. For one thing, it's the first time in seven years that your birthday is not a big deal:

13-teenager: "I am so cool"

14-. . .slightly older teenager: "now I'm even cooler"

15-permit: "I thought I was cool before, but now I really am because I can drive with my mom in the car"

16-license: "gosh, my coolness is so cold it's almost uncomfortable. . .good thing there's a heater in my car!. . .which i can drive!. . .by myself!"

17- "I can go see R rated movies without sneaking in! I am so mature."

18- "I'm Legal! Let's go buy a lotto ticket then spray paint some dry ice"

19-. . .well crap



And furthermore, being 19 is like being in age limbo: you're not a teen since "teen" tends to encompass 13-18 year-olds, but your not not a teen -that's what happens when you turn 20. What does that make a 19 year-old? Tween part deux?!

My tween years were bad enough back in middle school, I refuse to be a tween again. It seems that, over all, my 19th year is completely superfluous; nothing but wasteful fluflu.



And that is where my ingenious plan comes in; I will simply not be 19. This year I'm skipping directly from 18 to 20, do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars (unless there actually is 200 dollars to be collected, in which case I will do so). In addition to the afore-mentioned reasons as to why this is a good plan, here are some more pros:


A. I will finally be the same age as the majority of my friends. When my birthday arrives and I surpass you all in age I expect you to begin treating me with respect worthy of one of your elders.


B. I will not have to wait till my senior year to be 21. It's not so much that I want to be able to drink, although that is a definite plus, it's more so that my dad is a fantastic cook and I know all his secrets, the problem is that most of them involve cooking with some form of alcohol or another. That and I would finally be able to go swing dancing at the Sundance any time I want rather than just after 10 on Fridays. Likewise, I won't have to be the awkward friend who can't get into to any of my friends' 21st birthday parties.


C. 19 is a prime number so it has no divisors and is, therefore, not a team player; it would be best to avoid it altogether.


D. It gives me a freebie year later on. I skip 19 now an ten years down the road when I'm dreading turning 30 or 50 or whatever I can pull that bad boy out of my sleeve - "Just stop right there Mid-Life Crisis, I just so happen to have been saving year 19 for a rainy day. How do you like them apples?" - and thus stave off the dreaded year for another precious 365 days (366 if it's a leap year; double freebie!)

F. Years are just a human construct devised to deal with our limited understanding of time and pattern. Why conform to such a human and therefore imperfect archetype.


Now the only thing left to address is the legal issue of being a year older than what it says on my driver's license. I could defraud the government and lie about my birth year, which may or may not be considered a felony (but then felonies are only constructs of the government created to deal with our limited understanding of justice. . .). Regardless, lying to the government would probably be counter-productive.

After much consideration I have concluded that the best way to achieve my plan is to measure my life in Cesca-years in the same way as some people measure the lives of their pets in dog or cat-years. I imagine telling people my age will go much like this:

"How old am I you ask? Well legally I'm 19 but I prefer not to associate with prime numbers so in Cesca-years I'm 20 and in cat years I'm 3 and 4/5."

Shortly after hearing this, people will come to the conclusion that, despite my cesca-age, my mental age is actually 14. But hey, at least it's not a prime number.




Deo Omnis Gloria