Appreciation

I am at the age where I actually stop and take stock of my life.

And believe it or not, there are quite a few things I appreciate about it:

• My nephew and godchildren think I am cool. 
• My boyfriend is much younger than me. 
• I can bounce out of bed in the mornings if I am not hungover.  Well bounce is slightly exaggerated. 
• I can roll out of bed in the morning when I am hungover. Hitting the floor still smarts though.
• Instead of throwing plates, I err on the side of laughter. And therefore, keep my dishes.
• I can still fit in my skinny jeans from three years ago. Still can't breathe in them either.
• My tits are still riding kind of high. Even without the six inch foam pad. 
• I love freely. Not free love; just loving without requiring a deposit. 
• I can't do dairy, so I do vodka. Perfect replacement. 
• I have regulated my swearing to begin at 12 p.m. instead of 12 a.m.   
• My skin still looks pretty good and tight. Thanks Mom and Dad. 
• My hair is not thinning nor falling out. Yet. 
• I really like yoga. Seriously. 
• I don't get carded but I do get 'checked out'.
• Still smart as a whip. When I can remember shit.
• Can't do white wine but red is just fine. 
• My sweet tooth seems to have fallen out. Yay. 
• Instead of a fast boil anger (going from zero to one hundred sixty in mere seconds), I do a slow simmer. And warn you in advance. 
• I still enjoy sex. A lot. 
• The gym and I continue to not have a relationship. And I am fine with that. The gym has no choice. 
• I love the family and friends who are with me at this point in my journey. I have great taste in people. 

Everyone can appreciate anything at anytime at any age.

But for some unexplained reason, at this age it's just sweeter. 

xo,

Fabulously Fourty(ish)

What The F**k is AARP? And Why Am I Getting It?

Since January of this year, I have been receiving publications that I have not ordered nor paid a subscription fee. For free. They are as follows:

AARP                      (I don't know what the hell this is)
More Magazine    (for ladies over 40ish)
AAA Magazine     (yes, triple A produces a magazine)
Reader's Digest     (yes, still in publication)
Health Magazine (new upstart. like a young annoying cheerleader)

These publications are supposedly geared to people a hair shy of fifty and over. So far, I haven't crossed that line and am not rushing towards it. I still consider myself a Vogue Cosmopolitan Glamour Essence sort of girl. I mean woman.

I don't want to read about the best way to maintain vaginal moisture; the best time of the day to eat trans fats; how to fight that difficult gray (ah...scratch that);  the best food to lube your joints; the best makeup to hide those imperfections that come with age. Fuck you.

I am sure these were written with the best of intentions. A bunch of young folk sitting around an advertising conference table trying to gently help those who are slowly realizing that their 20's and 30's are really over easing them into the later stage of their lives. Like their parents. And I wish I was at that stage to accept this graciously given gift. But I am not.

Look, I still act inappropriately in all ways for my age. Not that that is right or wrong - just something that I continue to do. It's not that I don't want to 'age up'; it's just not my time to do so. For goddess sake, I internet. I twit. I Face the book. These are activities that 'older' folks do not understand or do. Harumph.

Yes, dear reader, I agree. My current rant is a lot of sound and fury signifying nothing - except the fact that I won't face the reality looming before me. Dragging my heels kicking and screaming. Desperately clawing at anything on the gravitational pull to fifty, reaching out for anything to retain my dear remaining youthful life.

I will say, these magazines are way lighter in pages and content. Is the assumption that I have learned everything already? They make great placemats but not door stoppers (not heavy enough). There are no 'special' issues (i.e. the September issue of Vogue) for life just moves on at a consistent piddling pace at this point. No surprises any longer? Nothing to look forward to? The advertisements have changed from hot clothes, hot vacations, hot clubs to drugs, drugs and more drugs. Legal drugs so it is not as fun.

They are damn depressing.

So to amuse myself (since they will not stop sending them no matter how often I insult customer service), I have decided to send back my response card with pithy, fun comments: "Fuck you"!. "Screw you!". "Go to hell!". Etc. etc, etc. They might find it amusing at first ('oh, that little old lady still has some fire!') but twelve months of being told to screw yourself in all sorts of inappropriate ways should guarantee a reduction in placemats for sure.

I'll keep you posted.

xo,

Fabulously Fourty(ish)