The twenty somethings

'We're not getting old, everyone else is getting younger!' said a friend a few years ago and it is still very much true.

If this is not true then I don't know why everywhere I turn I see young, brights twenty somethings ruling the world. One is the head of the marketing department, another one owns his own company, another one is a tech whiz, another one has published books, and another is a talented designer selling frocks by the thousands. I may not be getting old but I feel just a little bit outdated already.

I'm taken aback by the speed of enlargement of the gap between generations. I am only 33 (in less than two weeks) and yet I feel like a zillion years behind all these twenty somethings. I mean,  I used to play with dolls, I grew up with two hours of TV broadcasting a day and electricity cuts, I didn't know what the Internet was until I went to University, I worked my ass doing Silver Service at Christmas parties and waitressing during my first years in London, I came to the UK almost 10 years ago with nothing but a pair of grease stained ripped pair of jeans and a cheap red back-pack full of dreams, so yeah, I guess I am old school. I have an old iPhone which I can't be asked to upgrade. I don't understand the purpose of tablets (I'm a writer, I need keyboards!), I hate  e-readers (although, in all fairness, they are more planet friendly than paper books), I'm overwhelmed by the quantity (and sometimes lack of quality) of the information available in the media (be it traditional or digital), I'm overwhelmed by this century. But it's the  twenty somethings most natural universe and they're all over it.

And they're cool, and you just want to hang out with them (rejoicing in the fact that you're young enough at heart to join their fabulous group) and you feel like twenty something again too! But I'm not twenty something. I am thirty something and I congratulate myself for making it so far, because frankly I do not want to be twenty something again. The twenties don't come with a manual. They come with lust for life but no freaking compass. They come with ideas but no desperation for meaning. They come with lots of ego and anything but peace. Or so they say.

So I am not jealous of the twenty somethings. I love their hunger and creativity, it's inspiring.

But like Carrie said: 'And then I realized something, twenty-something girls are just fabulous, until you see one with the man who broke your heart.'