Am I 25?

I think not.

Last week, my entire office gathered in our already-too-small-conference-room in the brand new office suite we moved into a year ago for our monthly all staff meeting.

We typically engage in the same types of things your work does: hows-your-days, what's-new-in-the-fight-against-educational-inequity, etc.  You know, the normal stuff.

We also have some sort of competitive activity because, well, everyone in my office likes to win.

And you see, I like to win so I really enjoy this part of the staff meeting.  Let it be known, to the universe and all, that I am due for some goods.  The first time we did such an competition, the winner got a brownie.  I upped my edge, and won three consecutively in a row (two were a tie but who's counting?).  What did I get? Squat. Zip. Nadda. Pride and bragging rights or some shiz.

Shenanigans.

I digress.

We've guessed random facts, baby photos, more random facts, and we'd reached the limit of what we could share about ourselves comfortably at work.  You know, before we move on to such things as ovulation cycles, childhood diseases and the like.

So this time, they turned to popular culture.  A crossword puzzle no less.  With simple little questions like:

"Real Housewives of ______ begins February 15th."

"Co host of the 2011 Academy Awards."

"Inception architect."

I failed. Miserably. I couldn't remember that Kara is the second twin in the original family with Jon and Kate (Maddy was the annoying one so who remembers sweet Kara?).  I was trying to think of character names from "Inception" when really, all it needed was "Page" for Ellen Page.

Tits on me. I lost.  I was distraught. Tears of frustration, held immobile by polite clapping for others.

How could I have lost? I'm 25! This pop, reality TV, stupid shiz is designed for people like me.

Then I realized I have not watched a minute of MTV since I moved in with Topher nearly two years ago.  I knew James Franco was hosting the Oscars, but with someone else? And WHY IS EVERYONE OBSESSED WITH THESE UGLY, SNOTTY, ANNOYING HOUSEWIVES?

I spend far too much time reading.  I annoy Topher with what I gather from 3 hours of NPR everyday.  I spend my days figuring out how to tackle the greatest civil rights movement of our generation. I avoid taking showers.

All of these things greatly diminish my ability to learn why that one housewife was having a baby, and are the cast on Jersey Shore really, are they like really Italian?!

So I submit to you, dear world, my 18-29 year old badge and put in a request for my 40-55 package, as I've presented myself early on the doorsteps of old-dom.

Are you cool?