Current Mood: Comfy
Current Music: Late In The Evening - Paul Simon
I've had some serious discussions about the price of pork chops. I’ve conversed about what makes your white’s whiter, retirement savings plans, college funds, the usefulness of minivans, the need for afternoon naps on the weekend - the list goes on ad infinitum. When did middle age start creeping in? Seems to me that it snuck up on yours truly one Tuesday afternoon last year.
The realization that I was no longer perpetually 17 years old came with the startling discovery that I could no longer read fine print while wearing contact lenses and was constantly pulling a Mr. Magoo over the morning paper. Convinced that the optometrist had messed up my prescription, I marched myself right back to his office to complain. When the double check was completed, the lousy bastard turned to me and said "Your eyes are changing again, very common in middle age". MIDDLE AGE!?!?!?!?!? What the hell!!!! I'm only, only, only...dear lord I’m middle age!! But it can't be!! I still have a child under age 10! I still wear my hair long, insist on high heels, and crank the volume on music to ear splitting decibel levels!! Oy vey! middle age!
I found myself studiously reading all about the necessity of calcium in the diet of *gulp" a woman my age. I started to check out moisturizers that guaranteed to wipe those crinkly lines off your face in two weeks flat, and considered sheering my hair back a number of inches. This went on for months. I carefully noted each and every middle age "thing" I did. Paranoia you say? Damn straight!! Hiccers found herself smack dab in the centre of her very own mid-life crisis. In order to combat this I went in the opposite direction and practiced a few weeks of denial. I would simply not think about age, it didn't exist. Look at me! I'm Peter Pan and ain't never gonna grow up!!! As you might imagine this solution was about as successful as sporting stripes with polka dots. I still found myself talking about the price of pork chops. It was inevitable.
Some time later, probably on a Wednesday morning, I found peace with the whole conundrum. Acceptance crept in. I decided that middle age wasn't so bad after all. I can get into any movie or bar without hassle, and thankfully my mother can no longer ground me. I can also still ride the bumper cars at an amusement park if I so wished, stay up all night watching TV or flick on the Saturday morning 'toons. I can wear my hair and clothes any style I prefer, on any given day. The volume level will remain jacked to full because that is me. Age doesn't change the core of my spirit. I've found a great mix of young and old to make this person what she is today. I'm enjoying the comfort that middle age brings. Thoughts of growing old no longer scare me. When the finger of the elderly stage taps me on the shoulder some Sunday at twilight, the core will still remain the same.
Can't promise you that I'll be giving up the wrinkle cream anytime soon, but that's a vanity issue, and one best written about early on a Thursday.
P.S, Jen (Summer Free) you asked, above answers. Enjoy it, it rocks!
I base most of my fashion taste on what doesn't itch.