Thursday, February 10, 2011

The Golden Years.


I'm 25 years old.

That may not seem old, but for someone that is only halfway to 50, I've gotten a pretty good start on doing a lot of the things common for someone in their dotage:

For starters, I've rarely met a 3-for-2 sale I didn't like, especially when it concerns getting sweaters dry-cleaned.  I doubt I'm alone in this.  After all, who doesn't like getting something for free?

I love me a good sweater vest.  Not to the point where I own one, but sometimes I could almost see myself getting one at a Goodwill store.  I have worn them before, however.  They are nothing if not dangerously dapper and impossibly comfortable.

One of my most cherished past times is getting 10 hours of sleep.  While this is obviously completely unnecessary, it'll make you feel like a new person.  Guaranteed.

I still relish the opportunity to take a good nap in the afternoons.  If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times: If napping is wrong, I don't want to be right.

One of my favorite television shows of all time is the Emmy Award winning program, The Golden Girls.  I am in no way ashamed or embarrassed by this because, when it comes down to it, this show is hilarious.  Everyone can relate to it, regardless of age.

Sofia, Blanche, Rose and Dorothy: The Golden Girls.



Let's move swiftly to things I severely dislike:

I generally abhor staying up past 2 am (though it's fun occasionally).  This mostly comes from the fact that staying up super late requires skipping life the following day.  I went out a few weekends ago until 7 am, got back and went to bed, woke up at 3:30 pm, and then only got out of bed to make dinner with a friend.  After she left, I left the dishes in the sink, crawled back into bed, and stayed there until I was overcome with sleep.  Less than ideal.

People talking loudly outside my apartment (this is also in general).  I realize that I currently live on the ground floor, but c'mon, do you have to have a yelling conversation at 7 am?  It just seems unnecessary.  And who has the energy for it that early?

I have no patience for stupid kids playing stupid music too loud on their stupid cell phones while wearing stupid clothes and “sporting” stupid haircuts.  There is apparently no shortage of bad haircuts here in Spain.  It’s quite shocking how someone can get a haircut that, in the States, would do irreversible social damage, and everyone here seems to just pretend that nothing happened.  And don’t even get me started on the groaty dreadlock epidemic that is in full swing here in Spain.  It’s disturbing. 

It must be said, however, that all of this pales in comparison to one of my biggest pet peeves: What really gets me going is good-for-nothing, unwashed youths hanging out in parks with their damn dirty dogs and taking all the premium bench space.  It's the worst.  And of course, it just so happens that I live in the hippie capital of Europe: Granada.

Don't ever say God doesn't have a sense of humor.

1 comment:

  1. i love old man peter complaining about life. premium bench space...you are too much!

    ReplyDelete