They were the best of times, they were the worst of times

I don’t typically like to associate age with social norms. This may be related to my decision to move across country with no job after college, while prioritizing travel and making friends over pursuing careers or finding a husband. However, I’m almost two months into my 27th year on earth, and it seems everyone my age is at different places in life. At 27, we’re still young enough to go out and party until 5:00am, but old enough to be married with a house in the suburbs. Whatever the place, everything seems acceptable. And, my friends are from one extreme to the other and everywhere in between.

I’ve always thought of 17 as the lost age of adolescence. Ten year olds get the excitement of entering double digits, sweet sixteens start driving, and 18-year-olds officially become adults. Meanwhile, that lonely age of 17 seems to get lost somewhere between Quinceaneras and legally purchasing a case of Bud Light at 21.

Now, here I am at 27 – exactly 10 years older than the age of little acknowledgement besides Abba’s “Dancing Queen” (only seventeen…) lyrics. I can’t help but feel some similarities to the lost year of 17. Those of us who have made it to 27 are stuck somewhere between having already celebrated a quarter century birthday and teetering on third decade of life. Where does that leave us? Halfway between clinging desperately to our youth and happily embracing adulthood.

In the past three days, two of my girlfriends ended serious relationships, one got engaged, and another gave birth to her first child. My best friend from high school is currently sitting in a hospital with her new baby daughter as I search Craigslist for what will be by ninth apartment in five years. I’ve spent the past four months coping with a breakup of my own while witnessing the end of eight other serious relationships among friends. Just days ago, I received news of a close friend’s engagement while helping another move furniture out of the apartment she currently shares with her now ex-boyfriend.

There are people my age who make four times as much money as I do, and I watch them overspend at the bars while I creep into the bathroom stall to check my mobile banking account. On a good night, it tells me I have enough money to eat for the rest of the weekend and drink a few more vodka sodas before heading home.

I’m living this age, but cannot seem to fathom it. My most spoken phrase of 2011 is undoubtedly “What is happening in life?” I suppose we are all just growing up in different ways at different times, but will someone please tell me who made 18 the year of adulthood anyway?

The truth is, I find this stage of life to be extremely exciting and utterly confusing at the same time. Life is young, fun and free, and sometimes adulthood does not look all bad. Then, I remember I’m only a few years from 30. I’m single, cannot wait to quit my job, and own nothing of value besides a computer that I have yet to pay off. Bar hopping three nights a week does not have the same appeal that it used to, but I’m far from wanting to “settle down.” I have goals and plans and have been successful in so many ways. But, the puzzle pieces of my “unknowns” are still scattered around the table, and I have yet to understand how they all fit together.

I love my life. I am working toward great opportunities and have much to be thankful for. In the meantime, I find this age to be a hurricane of change and emotions. And, I cannot help but be intrigued by the absurdity of it all.

I’m happy for my friends who have found love and careers, and I’m proud of myself for exploring the world with a few pennies in my pocket. We will balance out our instabilities someday. For now, though, I will watch this world whirl around me and continue my efforts to make sense of the unsolvable mysteries of our late twenties.