I’m sorry, but it does. Way too futuristic for my liking. And when I think that kids born in 2000 will turn into teenagers this year, well, that just makes it weirder.
At the age of 45 and a half, I still feel like I’m 16 a lot of the time (and about 12 when I’m with my parents). There are days when I congratulate myself for driving a car in a straight line, or keeping my two children alive without giving them scurvy, or avoiding leaving them at the Post Office because I’ve forgotten they exist.
Which, given their propensity for electronics, is more than likely. They have descended into silence and clicking a lot of the time, their faces lit-up by the glow of, in Sweetpea’s case, a new iPod 5 and, in Munchkin’s case, Sweetpea’s old iPod.
And I have turned into my dad, who used to periodically shout at us to “switch that thing off!” (that thing being the TV) and demand conversation, causing me and my older brother to sneer and say ‘Yeah riiigggght’ under our breaths.
This year Sweetpea will turn 12. She might as well be in her teens already. Hormones are turning her into quite the moody, stomping, huffing and puffing little lady. I find it quite fascinating and more than a little entertaining, which makes her stomp, huff and puff all the more.
And then the huffing and puffing reaches whole new levels when Mummy embarrasses herself, such as last night when I and friend W did a bumping-and-grinding dance to Pulp in the front room, whilst Munchkin and his friend filmed it on my iPhone. See, told you I was too young to be 45 and a half.
I don’t have any New Year’s resolutions as such, which I am considering a healthy sign. Of course it would be nice to shed that extra ten pounds and practice yoga every day. But I’m getting to the stage of just wanting to be healthy, and of being grateful that I’m here. Just before Christmas an old classmate from primary school was found dead in her home, a sudden death that’s still shocking to think about. So I’m here, and happy, and am seizing the proverbial day rather than knocking myself out about being model-thin whilst doing it.
I have no idea what 2013 will bring. How can I when this time last year I didn’t even know I was going to start a new magazine? Life races by these days in happy, and sometimes stressful, fits and starts. Technology is behind us, propelling us forward, making us ever-busier and opening up amazing opportunities. But it makes everything so fast-changing it’s also much more uncertain. This is a world where a job, a career, a marriage, a home can change in the blink of an eye. And sometimes it would be nice to just stop… don’t you think?
It’s telling that my favorite times from the festive period were:
1. Sitting on my bum for two hours and 20 minutes listening to a comedienne and laughing my a*** off. Her name was Paula Poundstone. She entertained me and hundreds more in the glorious old Fox Theatre in Tucson, and she totally screwed up my New Year’s Eve eye make-up.
2. Sledding down the side of a snowy hill. iPhones couldn’t touch the moment, quite literally. I tried to catch us all hurtling down, but we were too fast. Ha! Take that, technology.
3. Watching my first episode ever of Downton Abbey. I know, I’m a little late to the game. But I’m glad I finally checked it out. Hubby and I made up a tray of tea and shortbread, ensconced ourselves on the sofa (kids gone to respective friends’ houses – hurray!) and tumbled headfirst into England, 1912, where much of the discussion surrounded electricity. (“Her ladyship wants to get it in the kitchen. Why on earth would you need it?”)