My genetic pool is such (Thanks Mom!) that I never really concerned myself with aging. Ever. That was the one thing I knew I had beat. In my twenties, I knew that if I took my boyfriend to my parent's house that would cement my relationship. Once they saw how fantastic my Mother looked, how young she appeared, they would be impressed. And look at me and think, "hey, she is gonna stay good looking for a long time". And I was correct.
Boyfriend: "Wow. Is that your Mom?"
Me (shyly smiling): "Yes, why?"
Boyfriend: "She's hot." Pause. "Really hot". Pause. "Too bad she's not single".
Me (underneath my breath through gritted teeth): "Well...now you certainly are."
Okay,so sometimes it backfired but overall Mom was my ace in the hole. Then one day, I will admit it was a while after crossing the burning sands (my 40th birthday), I was brushing my teeth while looking into my bathroom mirror. Hmmm...what are those lines around my mouth? They seem pretty deep; were they always there? I smile. They vanish. I stop smiling. They remain. Taunting me. I smile again. What the hell are those little lines underneath my eyes? I stop smiling. They go away. "See your Mother was right...if you keep making that face it will stay that way". I instantly start crying. Loudly. (More on inexplicable emotions later).
Good lord, what else have I missed? All day, in every mirror, every reflective surface, I begin to assess myself. While trying on big black sunglasses in Bloomingdales, I notice my neck still looks good. No ring around the roses happening there. Check. Outside in front, I raise my arm to hail a cab. Oh God, look at the hanging chicken fat underneath the upper part of my arm that continues to swing back and forth as I hail this cab with simple wrist only action. I cannot stop staring. Great, missed the damn cab. Check. Boobs still look high and mighty as I stroll into the restaurant, back rigidly straight, per the smokingly sexy smiley look on the face of my blind date. Work it girl. Check. Shit, forgot to apply extra moisturizer to my elephantine elbows as evident by the grimace on the face of my blind date as he takes said elbow to steer me to our table. Why the hell is he taking my ELBOW anyway? Sigh...and check. During the dessert, underneath the table, I secretly apply lotion to my knees...just in case. Check. Back at home with my well oiled appendages after my date ended early, as I put the vodka bottle on the bathroom sink counter in order to remove my face makeup, I notice an unexplained reddish "mound" dead center on my chin. In addition to the small equally angry pimple which appears in my cleavage. Drink. Cry. Check.
Now slightly dru-...- ah hell, while full out drunk- I strip down completely naked and focus. Staring determinedly at every little bit, every little pore, every little...thing. And then through my liquor haze I slowly realize: It's not so bad. Not twenty, not even thirty, but not bad. Everything is still in it's place even if it's not as high or as blemish free or as *ahem* small as it used to be. During sex I won't have to turn off the lights but I might dim them just a little. Check.
And even though I am surrounded by every wrinkle cream, moisturizer, age defier, botox in a jar product as I write this, I am happy to still look like me. A seasoned, well refined but can still turn a few heads Me. Look, I know that you cannot look like you are in your twenties forever; I was just hoping for a little bit longer - I mean, remember I have that great gene pool.
Thanks again Mom.
xo,
Fourty(ish) and Fabulous
Monday, January 30, 2012
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Welcome to your 40's ! An introductory guide...
If you are reading this then you have recently turned 40, are in the midst of your 40's or are near the end run. Regardless, you are wondering what happens now; I can't believe this is happening; what the hell just happened. Grab a drink and let's talk.
Don't believe that shit about 40 being the new 20; it isn't and frankly, you don't want it to be. Believe me. You are not twenty anymore but you are fourty and fabulous. Which is much, much better. It will take a surprisingly short while but you will realize you are happy to be here. Seriously. My girlfriends and I refer to this decade as the "F**k It Fourties" for in the beginning that will be your answer to everything that comes your way. Seriously late to work? F**k It! Stain in an obvious place on the new dress you are wearing out? F**k It! He didn't return your text/email/voicemail/MMS/IM? F**k It!
There is a lot that happens to you physically, emotionally and spiritually during this decade but the pluses definitely outweigh what might be considered minuses - at least from your vantage point. Everyone else better watch the hell out. Some highlights:
1. You won't feel the need to 'make nice' anymore. ("Ah, honey...if you leave that wet towel on the bed again I will cut you".)
2. You won't feel the need to mince words anymore. ("Yes, you are an idiot for staying with/marrying him".)
3. You won't feel the need to attend every event, every time, with everyone providing some lame excuse ("Honestly, I just feel like staying home. Alone".).
4. Your desire for sex will put an 18 year old boy to shame. Serious red-faced head hanging low down dirty shame.
5. You will finally feel 100% your true self. No would've, could've, should've...water under the proverbial bridge.
In addition, You will experience confusion (why is the remote in my purse?); brain farts (whasshishame?) and unexplained medical conditions (this is the third day my pinkie toe is on fire) but trust me, it's like....well, remember that 70's song, of course you do you're fourty, "I am woman, hear me roar?". Well honey, wait until they get a load of you.
So come join me while I regal you with stories, some funny some sad, about all of the changes, some wonderful some difficult, that are coming your way. No one told me and I was surprised on a daily basis which is an unpleasant way to live for someone who prefers her seat facing the door in a restaurant. And maybe you do too or just want to cry, laugh or nod along in agreement with me.
Just don't forget to bring your cocktail before you do.
xo,
Fourty(ish) and Fabulous
Don't believe that shit about 40 being the new 20; it isn't and frankly, you don't want it to be. Believe me. You are not twenty anymore but you are fourty and fabulous. Which is much, much better. It will take a surprisingly short while but you will realize you are happy to be here. Seriously. My girlfriends and I refer to this decade as the "F**k It Fourties" for in the beginning that will be your answer to everything that comes your way. Seriously late to work? F**k It! Stain in an obvious place on the new dress you are wearing out? F**k It! He didn't return your text/email/voicemail/MMS/IM? F**k It!
There is a lot that happens to you physically, emotionally and spiritually during this decade but the pluses definitely outweigh what might be considered minuses - at least from your vantage point. Everyone else better watch the hell out. Some highlights:
1. You won't feel the need to 'make nice' anymore. ("Ah, honey...if you leave that wet towel on the bed again I will cut you".)
2. You won't feel the need to mince words anymore. ("Yes, you are an idiot for staying with/marrying him".)
3. You won't feel the need to attend every event, every time, with everyone providing some lame excuse ("Honestly, I just feel like staying home. Alone".).
4. Your desire for sex will put an 18 year old boy to shame. Serious red-faced head hanging low down dirty shame.
5. You will finally feel 100% your true self. No would've, could've, should've...water under the proverbial bridge.
In addition, You will experience confusion (why is the remote in my purse?); brain farts (whasshishame?) and unexplained medical conditions (this is the third day my pinkie toe is on fire) but trust me, it's like....well, remember that 70's song, of course you do you're fourty, "I am woman, hear me roar?". Well honey, wait until they get a load of you.
So come join me while I regal you with stories, some funny some sad, about all of the changes, some wonderful some difficult, that are coming your way. No one told me and I was surprised on a daily basis which is an unpleasant way to live for someone who prefers her seat facing the door in a restaurant. And maybe you do too or just want to cry, laugh or nod along in agreement with me.
Just don't forget to bring your cocktail before you do.
xo,
Fourty(ish) and Fabulous
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