On Being 28

This is the most lady-like pose I could find.

Because I is a grownup now.

28 is not a very interesting number, generally speaking.
It's not 1. 5. 16. 18. 21. 25. 30. 50. 75. 80. 99. 100.

But regardless of how ordinary 28 is, each uptick is worth a slash of reflection, like penciling in how much you've grown against a doorjamb. In intervals of 5 (going backward from 28), my doorjamb would look like this:

THREE: I don't have many memories at this age, but I was still living at my first house at Jackson Heights at the time. I remember having a green parrot and Rufella, my indispensable Cabbage Patch friend. I remember musty carpets and curtains with retro floral prints. I remember once reaching for scissors on the table and snatching them #winning. Obviously my parents didn't child-proof the place, but I turned out fine! My mom always says that I was the cutest baby and that EVERYONE on the street would always stop to take photos of me. She tells me this each time we see each other, and I know she's rather proud that I'm her spawn. And then she usually proceeds to tell my brother that he was not cute and that is why she did not take photos of him. (Typical Asian mom.) But I've seen my baby photos and objectively I think she's talking out of her butt. Yea I was pretty cute as an infant with dumplings (cheeks) dripping down my face, but as a toddler I looked really really strange. I was a mini Rock Lee from Naruto, round spherical eyes, bushy eyebrows, bowl haircut and all. The unsexiest three-year-old in the world. Imagine that.

EIGHT: My parents threw me only two real birthday parties in my entire life, once in 2nd (or was it 3rd) Grade, the second time for my Sweet Sixteen. Now that I think about it, it must have been 3rd Grade because I distinctly remember the pain of not being invited to some idiot girl's birthday party in 2nd Grade when most of my other classmates were. Ah, it's it funny how those things meant the world back then? When my mom actually threw me my first birthday party, it was the best ever. For once, I felt like things working in my favor. I don't remember exactly what games we played (tag? freeze tag?) or even what party favors we gave out (Lisa Frank erasers?), but my parents splurged on my gift and got me a nautical themed Swatch. It was cool and practical, and a big deal since all I had gotten prior to that were uncool practical presents like flashlights. I will always appreciate my parents for indulging me with that party. That's how well my parents raised me.

THIRTEEN: I would say that the milestone that year was that I got my very first kiss that summer (uh, at Taiwan's "Tugboat" summer program). It was a huge deal for an awkward girl like me, who towered over all the boys in the playground like a female viking. Amazingly that dude ended up being my first boyfriend and went to Senior Prom with me a few years later. Even though our relationship ended up in a ball of flames my Sophomore year of college, we managed to get over the drama and are friends to this day. Getting some action at such a tender formative age (closed lip smooch, none of that nasty hanky panky) did wonders for my self-esteem! I was also on the swim team and was kicking ass, but then my parents wouldn't allow me to swim more than 3x a week like the other pr0 kidz (who were swimming 2x a day). They were afraid that it'd interfere with my schoolwork. I guess they had a more realistic handle on my probability of making the Olympic team than I did. To their delight, I switched my goals to become a doctor...

EIGHTEEN: but that was dashed when I dissected a bullfrog in AP Bio when I realized that I couldn't deal with slicing flesh for a living. I got into college and moved into a dorm room on campus. College was an opportunity to finally take destiny into my own hands, finally unshackled from parental control. Needless to say, I did terribly unhealthy stuff, like operate under a vampiric sleep schedule, stuff myself nightly with fried foods, and drink Smirnoff Ice. I was a rebel! Oh, but then I had to go back home every other weekend (the drawback of going to college in NYC). :p Aside from learning about "being an adult", the nice thing about going to school was that I could try to avoid things at home, until...

TWENTY-THREE: everything finally imploded. Oftentimes I felt like more of an adult than the adults in the room. If you have parents who are still married then count yourself (ironically) lucky to not have to do every holiday twice. I even had one parent go to Commencement and the other to College graduation. It was horrible. Things are much better now, but I wanted to gauge my eyes out with splintered pencils back then. After college, I landed a dream job at a now-bankrupt investment bank (GUESS, it rhymes with PEEMAN). It was 2007 and I got a bonus that was 133% of my base salary, so yea I felt like a BSD at the time. I wore ill-fitting suits with stiletto heels that hurt. I bought my first designer handbag. And I started a bad habit of spending my future earnings. Yes, I was finally reaping the rewards being an overachiever! Needless to say, that glory was rather fleeting and I don't think I'll be making MD at 30 anymore.

TWENTY-EIGHT: I don't answer questions like "Where do you see yourself in five years" as a matter of principle. You can predict that you want to be an astronaut from age 8-13... or that you still want to be the most popular girl in school from age 13-18. Or maybe that you want to marry your high school sweetheart. But our childhood is contained in such a controlled environment, and this is the real world. Here, countless variables collide into each other everyday... so you're bound to come out with some really funky results. Like primordial soup! After what I've been through from 23-28, I don't know where I'll be or who I'll be with or what I'm doing within a one month span. So don't even talk to me about one year. Or five years. I just know that tomorrow I'm going to spend a little more time getting ready for the day because this lass is gettin' old!

Now that I think about it, 28 doesn't seem that ordinary anymore. It feels ripe for the picking. Expecting and pregnant. It's an age when I still feel young enough, but have responsibilities to myself and everyone else around me. It's also an age when I feel old enough, but am unattached and relatively carefree. I like it. I also liked 27 because any year that is crammed with content is a good year. I expect 28 to be even better though. :)