I don’t feel 40. 40 is old, and I’m not old. I mean, I feel tired all the time, and I refer to everyone I encounter under the age of 33 as “that kid”, but I’m definitely in my prime.
Also, I tell the kids at work about The Time Before Cell Phones the same way my dad talks about walking to school uphill in the snow, but that doesn’t make me old.
I’m officially at the point where I was around for the 1st time several trends were popular (chokers, oval shaped nails), and all of my favorite shows have somehow been “rebooted” (et, tu, 21 Jump Street?)
I’m older than Carrie Bradshaw, all the Friends, and I’d probably be more likely to hang out with the parents from 90210 than Dylan or Kelly. I don’t know any of the current rappers (and by the way, that is not music. How can they listen to that no-talent lazy mumbling?! Back in the ‘90’s and early- 00’s, the rap songs had clever lyrics and wordplay and melody!Autotune my ass!) and I watch TV with the closed captioning on. Someone fitting my description was recently overheard complaining about the amount of salt used by a local Mexican restaurant.
My feet hurt. I lost my keys again. If it’s 9:30 and we’re not in bed, we get nervous. My thyroid doesn’t work. I rode in the back-back of a station wagon. There are like 4 days a year that I don’t bitch about the weather. Nobody says “word” anymore. I still ask my husband to “tape” stuff on TV for me. We’re in a constant battle over the thermostat. I had a Bart Simpson t-shirt and Batman earrings (Michael Keaton Batman). I think Yo Mama jokes are hilarious. I cant believe they don’t teach cursive anymore. I have a talk radio station as one of my pre-sets. The Olympics are pretty much out at this point. WE ONLY HAD 5 CHANNELS AND YOU HAD TO GET UP TO CHANGE THEM. The pool can’t be warm enough to get my ass in there. I make ludicrous claims like I invented twerking (this is absolutely true). Coffee is no longer a sipping drink. I rescued the Princess in Super Mario Bros before my brother and I still feel really good about it. In my head, a large pie is $8. These kids today, boy, I’ll tell you, they don’t know how easy they have it.
I recently climbed trees 40 feet in the air to do a high ropes course that 20 years ago would have scared me shitless. I’ve done kidney stones, broken bones and tubes that have blown. I screwed over a car salesman. My relentless advocacy for my family strikes fear in the hearts of Doctors and Specialists across the state. Backspin, My G. Nothing is too edgy, too offensive or too out there for me. I scrap with Horizon, Verizon and Amazon. I know all the birthdays and anniversaries, the activities and appointments. I’ve got 3 half marathons, 3 sprint triathlons countless 5Ks and a bikini show under my belt, all in the last 5 years. I’m Santa Claus, Hanukkah Harry, The Tooth Fairy, The Easter Bunny, and a Leprechaun that wasn’t well thought through because I’m still cleaning up rainbow confetti 10 months later. I kick my kids’ asses at Just Dance. I honestly believe I could win a rap battle if I just had enough time to prepare. I’m the person everybody calls when stuff hurts. I have a tattoo, dammit!
I can’t be old. It’s just a fact. Im not finished yet. I have plans, and ideas, and stuff I want to try. I have lived the hell out of this life so far and I’m not ready to put on a pastel tunic and round up the girls to sit on the lanai with a cheesecake. I’m still relevant! To the people that matter, anyway. And even though I’m not old, I’m not quite batshit enough to deny that I’m getting old-er, and I’m down with that. Wait- are people still saying “down with that?”. I have to ask the kids at work tomorrow. Somebody remind me, I’m going to forget.