The other day I had a conversation with a friend about one of my personal theories: even-numbered ages are better than odd-numbered ages. This conversation came up when I was divulging details about my upcoming 24th birthday celebration. He said "hmm" and then told me for him, odd-numbered ages have been better. Well, okay then.
Here is my analysis: I was 22 when I moved to New York (very fun), the odd-numbered age of 23 during the pandemic (need I explain), and I'm looking forward to 24 (if we aren’t counting the lockdown pt. 2). I think about how at 18 you're an "adult” (aka my friends and I could buy cigarettes—very cool), 16 is "sweet 16" (idk that's like kinda cute, right?), and for some reason, the age of 12 is seared into my brain as A Good Year.
But honestly, I’m reconsidering this. Nothing stands out to me about 14 (an even-numbered age). On my 16th birthday (even-numbered age), I was grounded and I couldn’t see Vampire Weekend (fave band, as you know) at Lollapalooza. I watched the live stream and cried. At 17 I got my license (an odd-numbered age), but today I do not know how to drive (it’s a long story). We could only buy cigarettes at 18 for a year or two. Then they raised the age to 21 in Chicago. Oh, and I also started this lil newsletter at 23.
I suppose my “theory” is unsound. I’ve realized it’s been a tool for me to quantify and qualify moments in my life in comparison to and in preparation of future ones. The simple lesson here would be “just live in the moment, Elise!” but I think it’s beyond that. Though thinking too far ahead is something I’m guilty of too.
Drawing conclusions from unconnected events is something I’m really good at. I think I think too hard sometimes.
Anyway, here are 24 mystery links for my 24th trip around the sun. However it goes! I’ll stop speculating. Enjoy!