Jenaicklefritz’s Weblog

No time to apologize for my absence. I’ve a matter of inconsequential importance to discuss. It would appear that Age is not only stalking me, but using me. Oh, I know; it’s deplorable. I’m offended that this is even worth blogging about. I’m twenty-five—ish. That’s a quarter the age of my great grandmother, who is a century. A quarter!

In monetary value, that’s a mere sofa cushion away from death! And I’m too young to get old or be the pawn of Time! But alas, that dastardly malfunction in youth is creeping up on me. Point in case—tonight I brought up the IOWA BASICS in my pedagogy class, and my teacher commented on the “archaic” concept the tests were founded on, and how standardized testing has come a long (emphasis on the “loooooong”) way since those “many” decades ago that the IOWA BASICS were used. Decades? The crippling test anxiety spawned of the IB’s still haunts me and feels like it happened only yesterday. But no (emphasis on the “noooooo!”) My “yesterday” is only accessible through academic archeology digs. Silly me, for not being young enough to be unfamiliar with the IOWA BASICS. Like many of my classmates seemed to be. Lucky them.

So of course, this little revelation did not come alone. Like Misery, Age too loves company; (it’s why old people play cards on Thursdays and discuss denture paste and hip replacements. None of that is fun or particularly scintillating, but the company is more or less pleasant.) Next point in case—my best friend from high school texted my cell phone after class because Utada Hikaru (Japanese R&B singer) was on the radio in Bozeman, MT, of all places. This is an amazing step in the global direction for a monochromatic town such as Bozeman. To think there would be any worldly flavor there! True, my best friend and I had wanted this day to come since we were chit’lans in high school… but it wasn’t until she asked me how “long” we’d waited for something like that to happen that the truth finally started to sink in.

Ten years! A whole bloody decade!

I was honest, and tried to be calm. I answered her, “all four years of high school, and the six—going on seven—years since.”

And of course, her encouraging response was, “wow, that makes me feel old!”

Without even thinking, I replied, “well, I do have that effect on people. The longer you know me, the older you get.” It was then I realized how true the statement was. So true, in fact, that I have discovered a biological anomaly within time and space—that Age is an entity. It has taken on some metaphysical symbiotic properties and is using me as its host to wreak havoc and liver spots on my loved ones!

The more I thought on the concept, the more I realized how true it was. I mean, even my dad for years has complained about me giving him gray hair, but I hadn’t realized that it wasn’t a crude metaphor, but a fact-based accusation. As the host for Age, I am to blame for his gray hair. And most likely his memory loss.

What I’m saying is: whatever causes aging in human beings is directly the fault of the Age symbiote’s host. And one of those Age symbiotes is using me! I cause people to get old. Don’t try to argue with me, I have proof! Every single person I meet who sticks around and talks to me gets older by the minute! Only people whom I don’t interact with on a daily basis seem to avoid aging. I mean, just the other day I ran into an old acquaintance who I distinctly recall commenting “hadn’t changed a bit since last I saw” him. True story. Yet I watch as everyone I keep near and dear, either physically or emotionally, wither before my eyes. And I know it’s because Age has cursed me with its leeching, parasitic ways!

I don’t know when it happened, but I know I’ll be avoiding sofa cushions for a while—if only to escape the loose change. At least until I can figure out how to keep from getting old, and preserving the youthful glow of my friends and family. I know I’m not smart enough (or understand enough chemistry) to create an anti-aging serum. But perhaps my discovering of the symbiotic Age organism (I’ll call it SAO from now on) will inspire some chemists out there to develop some kind of Bleach or Oust or Frontline for this parasitic SAO!

Just had to get that off my chest. Sorry to make y’all old.