Monday, April 4, 2011

What's in a Name? Or an age, for that matter...

Day 2: The reason behind your blog name. Honestly? I don't remember. I think I called myself an uncommon misconception one day, and it just seemed to fit. I liked the sound of it. Anti-climactic? I think so. But, it is what it is.

Moving on.

Lately I've been thinking about how age is relative. I mean, I remember when my oldest sister was my age, and I still think of her high school friends as "old". When I look at her senior pictures next to my senior pictures, she just looks so much older than I do! I don't feel like I'm old enough to be making the decisions I've been making. My sisters were so old when they made these decisions! Apparently not... But I swear I'm not as old as they were. Which is funny, because I am in fact older than either of my sisters were at this point in high school. Still. It's weird.

Yesterday, my dad turned fifty-something. Isn't that weird? What's weirder still is that someday I will be fifty-something, and he will be ninety. Oh. My. Goodness. At that point in my life, fifty-something will seem young! Yesterday was also the birthday of my dad's twin sister, and her little granddaughter. The little grandbaby turned one yesterday. I'm also freaking out that she sees me as "old". Aren't I the one that's supposed to think everyone is old still? I guess that now my FUTURE seems closer than it ever has, age becomes less important. I have friends in their thirties, forties, fifties, sixties, seventies... Even a couple in their eighties. Seeing them now, in the age they're in, has helped me to realize that age really doesn't matter. Not at all. Not when it comes to happiness.

Sure, there are certain things that come with the different stages of life. Big things. Big, life-changing things. Soonest for me is graduation. (That is, if I can get all of these online classes out of the way...) For my older sister (age 23, almost 24), it's marriage. She gets married in eighteen days. That's it. In eighteen days we will no longer share a last name. (Which is a shame, really... I love our last name.) For my other sister (age 27), it's a career and possible parenthood. She's been married for nearly three years, and she is now, officially, a "grown-up". She even has the full-blown career and cat to prove it. Oh. And her husband. For my big brother (age 20), life's all about adventure. He just wants to get out, and to try something new. We're kind of in the same boat that way. We're both ready for a change. Out of all of my siblings, right now I relate most to dear old Steve. My little brother's getting closer and closer to the strange world of high school (age 14). Next year, as a Freshman, his grades will actually count. Life's crazy like that. Even my parents are having all kinds of adventure, too, even at their ages of fifty-somethings. My mom's been less-than-bored with all sorts of projects: planning a wedding, remodeling the house, keeping track of my dad's business, and teaching math part-time at the college. Plus, she's getting some gray hairs over the fact that she'll only have one child left at home here really soon. My dad's getting closer and closer to retirement, basically living in Brian Head. With bishoping and dentisting down here, I honestly can't blame him for his love of solitude. He so very much loves hiking, and discovering. I think he's having a hard time coping with me leaving, too. As much as I sometimes hate it, I am his "little girl". Daddy's girl to the extreme, that's me. I don't think he likes the idea of me growing up. (If his hair weren't already almost completely white, this would probably take the color right out of it.) But that's not the point! The point of this long, rambling paragraph is to emphasize that life is crazy and great at all ages. College isn't the end, it's not even the beginning. It's just another phase of life that's there to help me grow and to become a better person. Isn't that the point of every phase of life, after all?

Wow. I'm in a rambling mood! Just a little bit! Going back to names: I've been thinking about my name quite a bit this week. I don't know if that's because my sister is about to change hers, or if it's because I've been called Liz about four times this week by different people, but I've just become really grateful for my name. I think it fits me well. I love that it's so short, and blunt. Kind of like me. What do you like about your name? Does it fit? Have you been told that it doesn't? I think I'd get a bit defensive if someone told me my name didn't fit. Not that it's meant to be offensive. A name is just so important! No matter how hard we try to believe it's not. Why else would we have nicknames? Nicknames are there to describe the special relationship between people. I will probably devote an entire post to nicknames someday, as I have already rambled enough for this one. :-)

I apologize for this post that shows just a little bit too much of me... I will be incredibly surprised if this even makes sense. But, as I said before, it is what it is. :-) And, in the words of good ol' Popeye: "I yam what I yam."

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