At the supermarket: "Please don't let me, waiting at your register with a cart full of perishables, interrupt your texting talking social media-ing."
At the DMV (to nasty clerk): "I see you fit the requirements of this position puurrrr-fectly".
At the restaurant (to the host hostess waitress waiter): "Ah, no. I don't want to sit there. Ah, no. Not there either. Hmmm...there. I want to sit THERE."
These phrases were all uttered by yours truly (accompanied by a straight index finger point with a slight head tilt). Yes, I sound like the world's biggest asshole and I've got news for you: you will too. Soon. If you haven't started already. Why, do you ask?
Welcome to the Age of Instant Rage. or A.I.R. (perfect, huh?). Gives a whole new meaning to, "I got frustrated with that /him /her /it /them so I came up /went out for some A.I.R.". You can say this in mixed company (those of varying age groups) and no one will be the wiser.
As noted above, I started to become a little concerned about the free-ness of my mouth and the possibility of getting beaten to a pulp. I mean, I have never bit my tongue but at least I always attempted to be coy about it. Masking any hidden venom behind a joke or a fancy quip. But this? This was something totally new. I had no control whatsoever. The words were stomping on my tongue, then flying out of my mouth at a rate so unexpected, so surprisingly fast, that I was left looking as stunned as the victim (whether they were the intended or not).
So, I decided to consult my new bible for guidance: O Magazine.
At the DMV (to nasty clerk): "I see you fit the requirements of this position puurrrr-fectly".
At the restaurant (to the host hostess waitress waiter): "Ah, no. I don't want to sit there. Ah, no. Not there either. Hmmm...there. I want to sit THERE."
These phrases were all uttered by yours truly (accompanied by a straight index finger point with a slight head tilt). Yes, I sound like the world's biggest asshole and I've got news for you: you will too. Soon. If you haven't started already. Why, do you ask?
Welcome to the Age of Instant Rage. or A.I.R. (perfect, huh?). Gives a whole new meaning to, "I got frustrated with that /him /her /it /them so I came up /went out for some A.I.R.". You can say this in mixed company (those of varying age groups) and no one will be the wiser.
As noted above, I started to become a little concerned about the free-ness of my mouth and the possibility of getting beaten to a pulp. I mean, I have never bit my tongue but at least I always attempted to be coy about it. Masking any hidden venom behind a joke or a fancy quip. But this? This was something totally new. I had no control whatsoever. The words were stomping on my tongue, then flying out of my mouth at a rate so unexpected, so surprisingly fast, that I was left looking as stunned as the victim (whether they were the intended or not).
So, I decided to consult my new bible for guidance: O Magazine.
And lo and behold, in one of my many issues, there was an article that touched on the "flash rages" that women start to experience once they are past the age of fourty. Apparently, 40 is a marker; a switch in the recesses of our brains points to "ON", red lights flash and it's mayhem and madness from there. Wheeeee!
And it doesn't take much for us to fly off into a verbal rage: talkative barista at the coffee shop, movie previews too long, can't get our make-up right in the morning... e v e r y t h i n g. And as soon as it begins, it ends. Everyone around you looks horrified while you look as if you have just awaken from a refreshing nap.
And it doesn't take much for us to fly off into a verbal rage: talkative barista at the coffee shop, movie previews too long, can't get our make-up right in the morning... e v e r y t h i n g. And as soon as it begins, it ends. Everyone around you looks horrified while you look as if you have just awaken from a refreshing nap.
Cure? hahahahahaha...there isn't one. And believe me I truly tried. I tried yoga, meditation, retail therapy (wink wink), having more sex, reducing my sugar, having no sex, organic vitamins, counting to 10 before speaking (then 20, then...) and nada, zero, zilch. I still felt the flush of heat, the ringing in my ears, my teeth grinding when someone would say, well anything.
Apparently we are allowed to vent at our leisure and cannot be stopped for it. Apparently there is a universal understanding that once a woman who appears seemingly normal starts verbally tearing you a new hole for no real reason at all, it is generally understood that she is: 1.Over 40 2. Legally crazy and 3. Not to be messed with.
Apparently we are allowed to vent at our leisure and cannot be stopped for it. Apparently there is a universal understanding that once a woman who appears seemingly normal starts verbally tearing you a new hole for no real reason at all, it is generally understood that she is: 1.Over 40 2. Legally crazy and 3. Not to be messed with.
So, relax. Enjoy! The freedom to be a honest, inappropriate asshole will make you happy in more ways than you can ever imagine.
xo,
Fourty(ish) and Fabulous
Oh how I loved reading your posts!
ReplyDeleteI laughed, nodded my head in agreement and uttered "hmm mmm" several times throughout.
Definitely bookmarking this blog until Blogger fixes my followers widget and then I shall be stalking...er...I meant following you. (Nope, that still sounded kind of stalkerish) :)
Hi Lily,
ReplyDeleteWelcome! I can see you are a sister in shared experiences so I am happy to have you on board! Trust me, there are many, many more to come...all with equal dose of horror and hilarity. Check in tomorrow for "Who You Calling Ma'am?".
Fourty(ish) and Fabulous!