Sunday, September 02, 2007

Age ain't nothin' but a number

I'm caught between generations.

Depending on who you talk to/what you read, Generation X ends with the people born in 1977 or 1980. I was born in 1980, so I'm swinging in on the tail end (according to some). I'm no sociologist, so I won't get into the generally accepted definitions. Let's just say I'm on the cusp of something.

I'm the youngest of five girls. My oldest sister was born in 1961. So, once again, depending on who you talk to/what you read, she's on the tail end of the Baby Boomers or the beginning of Gen X.

My parents were born before WWII.

You may be wondering where I'm going with this. So am I.

There's something about the way I was raised and the dynamics of my family that has always made me feel like an outsider among people my own age. For most of my teenage years I was Baby Sara or Little Sara...everyone treated me like a little sister. I hung out with people who smoked pot and drank but no one ever offered it to me or did it in front of me because everyone was protecting me. I don't know why. (I'm not complaining. I'm glad I graduated from High School with all my brain cells in tact. I just don't know who decided to shelter me or why everyone followed along.)

I'm a loner because I was the only kid at home after everyone else started school. Then I was the only one at home when everyone else moved out or went to college.

I am extremely resentful when girl friends say I'm like their little sister. I have 4 sisters already, I don't need anymore. I want friends. I want everyone to fit into certain roles. Sisters are different than friends and my sisters are always going to be more important than my friends. I used to hang out with a woman who was about 4 years older than me and had two little girls. Within 6 months of meeting me, her kids were calling me Aunt Sara. That weirded me out.

Whoa, I'm getting way off track. I started this post because of yesterday.

Yesterday was Jana's beginning of the year MFA party. The crowd was probably split 50/50 between faculty and students. About 2/3rds of the way into the evening, I realized that most of the students had left or were about to leave and I was still talking to the profs. I gave Dawson a hug and told him I was sorry I didn't get to talk to him more. He said, "don't worry about it, you were busy hob-nobbing." Well, it may have seemed that way, but really, I was just hanging out. Cuz the profs are like my sisters; they may be significantly older than me but they're the kind of people I'm used to hanging out with.

When am I going to learn how to hang out with the cool kids?

This is the most pointless blog (ENTRY) in the world. I may delete it (this entry!) soon.

4 comments:

Nin Andrews said...

I love your blog. And yeah, I am the youngest of 5 sisters and 1 brother. But no one says I'm like a sister and they wouldn't want to. It's not the same as you say. Sometimes better I'd say, a friend is, and never as dangerous.

Justin Evans said...

I have always felt as if I was born 20 years too late. I was born in 1969, and I was raised my my grandparents.

I have always felt out of sorts with those who are supposed to be my peers, and behind hte game on so many levels. Because I was in the army, I felt as if I had a late start, and I am always surprised to learn how young all the poets I admre really are.

Finally, i had to force myself to recognize all of the things I had done cmpared to those around me, and see my being ot of step as a possible advantage.

I had my moment of doubt the other day about my blog, and so I can say to you, work through yours. This blog is serving you in ways you don't see as of yet. Allow it to do its work.

Sara said...

Oh dear...I didn't mean I was going to delete the whole thing, just this post! Don't worry, I love my blog and it isn't going away any time soon.

Brandi said...

The cool kids are highly overrated.

Always.

xo,
b