I categorically refuse to believe that anyone was born after 1981. That’s when my sister was born, and as far as I’m concerned that’s when birth dates stopped happening. No, I mean seriously, no-one could have been born in, say, 1996, because I was busy taking my exams and pretending to be a grown-up.
Oh, sure, babies were born, I’ll accept that, but they’re babies, they don’t grow up and start talking sense. Do they?
Well, alright then, I guess the world does carry on, and although I’m still only 26*, I can conceive that other people do get older. Still, it is a very strange thing, how I can’t quite get my brain to accept the concept of time passing. My dentist is younger than me. My nieces that I held as babies are now grown ups with jobs and boyfriends and so-on. Some of the people I talk to daily on Twitter were born around the time I was starting university. And they actually seem capable of coherent conversation. As much as teenagers can, that is.
Ok, that was a cheap joke. But I do mean it in a certain way. The other day, after a characteristically teenage discussion with Stephanie, I dragged out my old diaries from when I was her age and flicked through them. Surprisingly enough(!), despite the rather different circumstances, 13-year-old me was remarkably like 13-year-old her. It feels infinitely strange talking to “young people” and giving them (what seems to me to be) good advice, like some wizened old granny, because 13-year-old me is still there. Right now she thinks I’m being a bit silly.
The day all this hit me for the first time, I was chatting with a young man of 17, he was helping us organise some event or other and we were all sitting round in my flat. This was back in good old 2006. He picked up my millennium bug from beside the computer and started playing with it. It was a plush toy my sister had bought me back in ’99, it came in a tin that claimed it would prevent the big Y2K bug from hitting you if placed beside the computer. Funny.
“What’s a Millennium Bug?”
Holy crap. What do you mean “what is it”? It was a scare that shook the world, it was the impending apocalypse that never came, it was a fucking mountain-sized molehill!
Of course, you were 11 at the time. I was finishing my IT degree.
Oh well, back to my knitting.
*This may or may not be true, but I’m not telling.