Old
As of 1:28 this morning, I am old. I don't feel old. I feel rather childish and irresponsible, actually, and I'd like to continue to act that way. But I must face the numbers. Numbers never lie. I am 36 today, and I need to go out and buy some Oil of Olay. Or, as my dad called it, "Oil of Ol' Lady."
On the upside, I don't have grey hair, I don't have any lines or wrinkles (nor will I get them, thanks to Oil of Olay), I don't have any kids, I still like the cool music, and I have a sweet ride. With any luck, I've inherited my mother's ability to age imperceptibly.
So, I mean to take this on with aplomb. I'll forget about it in a few hours and go back to acting like an ass. I did when I turned 35. And this weekend, I will gather with many of my overeducated thirtysomething kidless compadres, eat cake, get drunk, and sing "Total Eclipse of the Heart" poorly, and in front of many strangers. Somehow, you get away with that when you are the loudest and largest group at the bar. Then I will realize how lucky I am.
My goals for my new year are as follows:
Lose the weight.
Make tons of sweet, sweet, moolah.
Watch Napoleon Dynamite at least once per month, just to keep me in check.
Get more mad skills.
Learn what a bowstaff is and how to use one.
Finish the book(s).
Stop writing depressing blog entries, and get on with the nonsense.
"My name is Sally O'Malley, and I'm here to reclaim the runway for real women! And I'm FIFTY! I like to kick, and stretch, and KICK! I'm FIFTY!"
On the upside, I don't have grey hair, I don't have any lines or wrinkles (nor will I get them, thanks to Oil of Olay), I don't have any kids, I still like the cool music, and I have a sweet ride. With any luck, I've inherited my mother's ability to age imperceptibly.
So, I mean to take this on with aplomb. I'll forget about it in a few hours and go back to acting like an ass. I did when I turned 35. And this weekend, I will gather with many of my overeducated thirtysomething kidless compadres, eat cake, get drunk, and sing "Total Eclipse of the Heart" poorly, and in front of many strangers. Somehow, you get away with that when you are the loudest and largest group at the bar. Then I will realize how lucky I am.
My goals for my new year are as follows:
Lose the weight.
Make tons of sweet, sweet, moolah.
Watch Napoleon Dynamite at least once per month, just to keep me in check.
Get more mad skills.
Learn what a bowstaff is and how to use one.
Finish the book(s).
Stop writing depressing blog entries, and get on with the nonsense.
"My name is Sally O'Malley, and I'm here to reclaim the runway for real women! And I'm FIFTY! I like to kick, and stretch, and KICK! I'm FIFTY!"
posted by Kristine at 8:49 AM
3 Comments:
N's never really age. In my life, I've met one exception, and that exception is not you. So eat, drink, and be merry! Rejoice in the fact that you are young at heart! Cavort, prance, frolic, rollick, and romp.
*Raises a flagon of Celestial Gold*
Here's to you, my friend! Happy Birthday! And many many more!
Happy Birthday, Kristine! I was hoping for some birthday pics of Spike-doll celebrating. Oh well.
Great list of goals. I can't wait to see Napolean Dynamite!
Spike wasn't here this morning when I got up, which is really weird, because he likes to sleep in, REALLY late. I imagine I'll see him tonight. I think I heard him muttering about presents, so we'll see! I don't think I want to know what he has in mind.
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