A Dangerous Eye Age

Monica: Well yeah, but, you know, uh, 27 is a dangerous eye age.

I smirked to myself when I first heard this line on F.R.I.E.N.D.S. But now, having turned 27 myself, I am not smirking. I actually find myself agreeing with Monica. 27 is a dangerous eye age. It makes you see stupid visions; good ones like those dreams you had when you were a naive teenager and pictured yourself as a career woman who managed a home with a handsome husband and angelic cherubs for kids. And bad ones like those that you get when you're depressed and wallowing in self-pity. It throws all these random images at you (good and bad) like it's mocking you; trying to show you what's in store in the future and that one small step in the wrong direction and you're doomed.

It's not like turning 25 or 26. My only concern when I turned 25 was that the next time I picked up a book, I could never imagine myself as the lead protogonist if she would be in her "early twenties". And that thought scared me more than anything else. What's left to life if you cannot lose yourself in a book with the belief that one day you may be that girl in the book!

To me, turning 27 felt like getting interrogated by federal agents. OK, I know I'm exaggerating but that's how it feels to me. It's hard enough that you do it in your head everyday but when you have this SMug, Annoyingly Know-it-all (SMAK) version of yourself interrogate you...its even worse.

SMAK: So, 27...you've done well.

You: *BLINK* Really? I mean, thank you. *SMALL SMILE*

SMAK: Thank you? (sneeringly) Let me explain it to you, retard..."that" was sarcasm.

You: *GULP* So you mean I haven't done well?

SMAK: Are you successful?

You: Um...well...not exactly...but...you see...I...

SMAK: Then NO! (bangs a fist on the table)

You: *DOUBLE GULP*

SMAK: And don't even get me started on things in the personal front... (sneers again)

You: *WIDE-EYED DUMB EXPRESSION* I know...but...I think...its OK...

SMAK: It's not OK, until I say its OK! It's been 27 yrs and you still haven't gotten that into your head, haven't you?

You: *DEMENTED LOOK* What do you think I should do?

SMAK: Let me tell you what I think you should do...get off that fat-ass of yours and get cracking. You have 3 years left...you hear me? 3-freaking years...find that career that you've been dreaming about...fight for that love you've been yearning for...and for heaven's sake settle down for once! I've had it upto this with your rants and self-pity sessions (raises hand to hold a feet above head)

You: *SHAKING AND TREMBLING* I'm trying...I've been trying all along...

SMAK: Well, then you better try harder...OK Old Lady?

You: *SCREAMING AND STANDING UP* I'm not old!!!

SMAK: Oh yeah, then who's this shrivelled, ugly hag in the mirror? (holds up a mirror to your face)

You: *SCREAM MORE AND RUN OUT*

I told you, 27 is a dangerous eye age *SIGH*

On a totally happy note, my brother's wife delivered a healthy and beautiful little baby girl today! On my b'day! And...*DRUMROLL* she's gonna have at least a pet name that's gonna be similar to mine. How cute is that? See...I can be cheery too :)

Now that I think about it...27 is not that bad, I guess.