Thursday, March 24, 2011

40

When I was in 5th grade, the song “1999” came out. Like everyone I knew, I was so excited to ACTUALLY PARTY LIKE IT WAS 1999, I could hardly stand it. Then my tiny, ridiculous 5th grade brain realized something terrible: I would be 28 years old in the year 1999. Ancient. Way too old to party in any appropriate fashion anymore. I figured that, at age 28, I would be relegated to sitting on the couch with other old people, listening to Dave Brubeck, talking about Phillip Roth novels, and drinking wine. I started hating the song – hating the promise it had, that I would never get to enjoy because I would be old, old, disgustingly old.

I’m turning forty this week, something my dumb 5th grade brain couldn’t even comprehend. And although everyone says that forty is the new thirty, I am fully aware that this is the year that I go from being a MILF to being a cougar. The year that a miniskirt becomes just sad. The year that new words start to enter my vocabulary: hot flash. Fosamax. Spanx. All the same, I’m not too worried about it. I’m going to stay the same awesome, totally humble person I already am. And here are a few promises that I am making to you right now:

1. I will not start wearing clothes that look like they’re from Justice, just because I can fit into them. There is nothing grosser than a middle aged lady in low-slung jeans and a baby tee. It’s enough for me to privately know the relative flatness of my stomach – I don’t need to prove it to the world.

2. I will continue to be a fitness dictator. I am talking to you, my young friends. You are in my radar, and I am telling you right now, if I can force my dog to exercise twice a day (she can bench press 100 pounds – that’s really good for a dog!) I can force you to do it, too. I am currently trying to devise a way to get the guppies to exercise more. They swim a lot, but I am a firm believer in cross-training. And if you smoke….ahem…..Yelena…..I have my eyes on you.

3. I will not become one of those weird ladies who wears fleece sweats to the grocery store and carries around a yoga mat. French women get more chic the older they get, so I’m going to do that, too. Except I’m not throwing away my Baseball Hall of Fame hoodie. I will admit that a chic French woman wouldn’t wrap her dog in that thing, but some things gotta stay.

4. I will not keep my mouth shut because it’s not proper to discuss politics and religion in public. The only people who ever follow that rule are the moderates, and I think it’s time that we moderates begin speaking up. So I’m going to do my part, and stand up for normal, middle class Americans who just want everyone to have a fair shot, and for our kids to live in a decent world. You want to talk about how right your extremist side is? Go solve poverty. Then you can talk about how right your side is allllllllllllllllll day long.

5. I will take up a strange new hobby. Catamaraning. Or geocaching, or collecting Depression glass. Except none of those. Something else. This one is still being fleshed out. Suggestions are welcome. But I will hobby that thing out!!!!

6. I will not have a midlife crisis. So, this means that I will not start tanning, join eHarmony, get a tattoo, buy a convertible, wear my hair in pigtails, go on a Women’s Retreat, start obsessing about having another baby, start getting pedicures “because I deserve it,” date a much younger guy (that is a lie. I totally will.) or start having Girls’ Nights. My girls know that I love them, and they also know that my couch gets very lonely if I’m not there for it, and as my couch cannot make friends on its own, I need to give it attention.

7. I will make sure to get all the dog hair off of my clothes before I leave the house. Having dog hair on your clothes is fine when you are 39, but when a 40 year old woman has dog hair on her clothes, it just looks sad and givey-uppey. If you see me with dog hair on my sweater, you have my permission to prostitute-slap me with a lint brush. I would do it for you.

8. Last but not least, I will not, not now, and not ever, use my age as a reason to give up on my aspirations. I hear so many people say, “I wanted to go to law school,” or “I wish I were a runner,” or “I wish I could play piano,” or “I wish I knew how to crochet cool afghans.” Maybe not that last one. In any event, the way I figure it, I still have a lifetime to live, and there are criminals to defend, marathons to run, pianos to be played, and innocent victims on which to foist handmade afghans. So I’m just going to keep on pushing, regardless of whether I am the oldest one in the room, or the youngest. Let’s see what happens in the next forty.

3 Comments:

At March 25, 2011 at 8:52 AM , Blogger Tausha said...

Happy Birthday Jeanne! You give me hope for when I am old and 40. Yeah, it's next year, so what?!

 
At March 27, 2011 at 2:12 PM , Anonymous Rose said...

:)

When the song 1999 came out, I realized I'd be 8 days shy of 30 when we partied like it was 1999! It was depressing! Then, when 12/31/99 came about, I remembered all of those horrible thoughts and 8 days later, refused to even acknowledge that it was my birthday, let alone my 30th!

Fast forward 10 years...my 40th was a blast! I embraced it! But, as far as #6 is concerned, I did get a tattoo, love my Girls Night Out's and have no issues at all with the dating of younger men (if only I could find one!).

Have a spectacular 40th my dear! And should you feel so inclined, get your happy ass down to FL and motivate me in #2!!

 
At March 27, 2011 at 10:26 PM , Blogger OHBoy614 said...

I'm going to miss our Girls' Nights.

 

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home