So, in the past fortnight I’ve been invited to a ‘pre exam ice cream mash up party’ and a 21st birthday party. That is just, cray cray….apparently, and there you where dear reader wondering how you would ever be able to work a freshwater crustacean into everyday conversation…..as an adjective….or is that noun, or an adverb? I clearly didn’t pay much attention to the two weeks I spent trying to do a summer semester course in linguistics. I particularly like an Urban Dictionary definition that I found on the web that relates the use of the word ‘cray’ to Reggie and Ronnie, those love-able gangsters from Londidium, also known as the Kray twins; they definitely preferred action to words and probably lobster over cray.
The Kray twins, Reginald (left) and Ronald (right), photographed by David Bailey (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
“Stop talking nonsense or the Cray Fish gets it”
- “I surrender! don’t eat me Mr Kray”!
I’m under no illusion that being 43 and having friends younger than my own children is a slightly unconventional existence, but just in case I do momentarily delude myself that I am suddenly hip, young and cool, my actual children bring me right back in line and remind me that I am none of those things. Asking them at the weekend what the pony dance and gangbang style is probably blew my new found street cred right out the window (though I do know now that Gangnam is an exclusive suburb in Seoul….and a 2012 version of the highly imitable chicken/ Hey Macarena dances). I possibly made that last bit up.
As for an ice cream mash up, I totally understand the concept of Cold Rock Ice cream at home; I may go all posh and grown up and take some really good chocolate and raspberries…….I may instead take some Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans just to really mix things up a little.
It puts my very first blog post in perspective really; I’ve established that whilst I’m not too old to wear my University hoodie, I really shouldn’t be wearing it AT University; an invite to a Toga party is probably not going to happen now; but, the advantages to being a ‘mature’ aged student is I don’t get spammed by quite as many political flyers the minute I get off the bus on campus. Perhaps they think I’m too old to have an opinion/have my opinion changed, or just not worth engaging in an intelligent and contemporary conversation. Anyone who’s been in a tutorial with me can verify that that last bit is actually true……..only I could instigate a conversation about pikelets versus crumpets when we were supposed to be discussing a book based on The Iliad today.
So, in summary, this weekend I will mostly be practicing dancing like I’m riding a pony, (I can neither dance nor ride ponies so I’m not predicting a high degree of success in this endeavour) thinking about suitable ingredients to mash into frozen dairy, praying that the 21st bash is not going to be themed/fancy dress to amplify me sticking out like the proverbial sore thumb, and whether I can come up with a proposal for my honours thesis that goes something along the lines of,” Epic Baked Goods in Western Literature: From Homer to Malouf”.
Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans (Photo credit: Scott Smith (SRisonS))
Yes, our children are experts at reminding us that we are no longer young, hip, and cool, aren’t they?
You have no idea how much entertainment I get out of pretending to be young hip and cool in front of them though!
It’s so easy now to not feel any age. Studying, in the work place we all mix in, give a little and get a lot from the multi-generational environment. Go cray-zy I say
Absolutely, I love not having to fit into some socially defined square box that previous generations seemed to be confined by; I think it’s actually a good era to be in your 40′s and I’m not really that concerned about my 50′s or beyond…..yet!