You Know What They Did to Jesus?

I went to a 33rd birthday party this weekend and even though I had a fabulous time, I felt old. It isn't the highest friend birthday party number I've been to (I have lots of friends that are older than 33). And well, lots of older relatives, so I've been to their birthday parties too.

But here's the thing. I remember when I was a teenager and my Uncle Mike turned 33. Why was it so memorable? Well, my mom called him up to wish him a happy birthday and then said, "You know what they did to Jesus when he was 33?" And my mom and my uncle laughed and laughed because they grew up Catholic and Jesus and nuns are pretty funny stuff to the Catholics (as far as I can tell). Guilt, on the other hand, they take very seriously.

My parents making fun of religion was pretty darn funny to me too. It was almost as funny as my dad bitching out the Broncos on Sunday afternoons with all kinds of good swears when they didn't do well. My dad is a pretty soft spoken guy, but he has no problem coming up with all kinds of "advice" for the Broncos when they screw up that is best delivered in a tone that can be heard by the neighbors... 4 blocks down the street.

So, I'm at this birthday party with my dear friends from college at an old college hangout. And the guys are drinking beer and the girls are not (most of them are preggers and alcohol = hard times for me these days). Okay, so Will wasn't drinking beer because he hates it and Colleen was because she is awesome. But had this been 10 years ago, we all would have been drinking. Except for Will - he is impervious to peer pressure.

It occurs to me mid-way through dinner that I should ask the birthday boy, Brian, if he knew what they did to Jesus when he was 33. But then I realize that this is a bad idea because a) Brian isn't Catholic; b) it is kinda depressing if you aren't Catholic; c) it might just be depressing in general unless you are my mom and uncle.

And then I felt old for being mature enough not to blurt out a depressing topic, but also because my college friends are now the same age as my uncle once was. I mean, whatever, he was 17 once too but I don't remember that. But 33 seemed OLD when I was a teenager. My hip and cool uncle was OLD at 33.

I still have a few years to get to 33. So maybe it isn't me that is old, it is the people I hang out with. Yeah, that's it. (Shuffles off to take Metamucil and curl up in bed at 7 pm.)