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Monday, February 28, 2005


May I see your ID, please?

I was carded when I ordered a beer at Tryst tonight. I know I ought to be flattered, but really -- with my 29th birthday only a few months away, I find it hard to believe there's any question I'm at least 21.

I met the managing editor of The New Republic the other night, as well as a writer for the magazine, and was thrilled that they look as young as I do. Maybe over time we'll convince the world that you don't need to look a certain age to be taken seriously.

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