I am not old.

Shout out to Ryan- I love sharing my birthday with one of my best friends. (Even if he did drink Corona with pancakes when we were in Kiawah.) And I love that he always shares his Chocolate Wonderland cake with me!

So last night a group of us went to dinner to celebrate. As the waitress sat us at the table, she asked if there was a special occasion. I told her it was our birthdays. She smiled and said happy birthday. And then it happened.

She asked how old I was. That in itself does not bother me. I am not age-sensitive. It is not a state secret. So I smiled back and said "25." This was her response.

"Oh, wow! You look really good for 25."

I managed a confused "Thank you?" as she skipped away to get our drink orders. I "look really good for 25"? Well of course I do! What is that supposed to mean? Isn't that the POINT of being 25? Isn't it a given that I will look good? 

Let me clear a few things up here. Twenty-five is not old. Twenty-five is the age that everyone wants to stay. Twenty-five is the age that everyone lies and says they still are. No one hits middle age and pretends to be 17 or even 35. It's always twenty-five.

I could have cut her a little slack if she was say, a ditzy high school student with dangly earrings, an orange tan and flat-ironed platinum dyed hair. But she wasn't. She was a smart, articulate, 22-year old USC student who also sings opera on the side and other than her terrible taste in compliments, was a great waitress. (Oh and if this means anything, she thought 24-year-old Ryan was 27. No comment on his looks though.)

All I can say is that if she is my waitress when I go out to celebrate my 40th birthday, she'd BETTER say I look 25 then.