Twenty.

The day I turned 20 it hailed in LA. This struck me as poetic not so much for the uniqueness of the interaction but indeed because it was a rather un-unusual combination that became special only in my mind. I felt uncomfortably old, irrevocably separated from that scapegoat label "teen" and also intolerably young, just barely starting on two.

I loved aging in obscurity, as if the gravity of the situation was a precious secret to be protected from the false celebration of others. I imagined myself year after year, becoming an ageless constant like my mother, who hovered above late 30 no matter how many years passed.