In case you were wondering, I'm still alive. For now.
I've just been really preoccupied with the fact that in just nine short days, I will be half. a century. old.
Half a century.
50.
50.
That's, like, way the hell older than I ever thought I'd be.
Even last year when I turned 49, it never occurred to me that I'd be turning 50 on my next birthday. I mean, it would be the logical conclusion... As a reasonably intelligent woman who can count past 49, I did know that the next number would be 50. I've counted to 50 before. Also, in the past, my birthdays have come in chronological order, so it's not like it would be reasonable to assume that this one wouldn't...
I joked about it and stuff, making references to the fact that I'd be dead soon because I'm going to be so flippin' old on my birthday, but it's not like I actually believed it.
God wouldn't do that to me... would He?
I'm his favorite.
Consequently, I feel like I need more time to get used to the idea. Like, maybe 10 more years or so. I didn't have enough warning. I'm not prepared. I have so much shit to do before I'm ready to turn 50.
Like, have a face lift.
Like, not turn 50.
Okay, this might come as a shock to you but I may or may not be a little vain. Not obnoxiously vain, like I'm always worried about how I look... More like, vain in the sense that I take it for granted that I look youthful and in no way, shape, or form anywhere close to 50.
I'm beginning to think that my mirror is a lying ASS.
Not that long ago (like, two months ago, even) when people would hear I had children in their 20s, they would gasp in shock and say, "No way!! You can't be old enough to have kids in their 20s!"
Recently (and I can't even begin to tell you how much it pains me to even write this down because it may have possibly been the worst moment of my life) I was talking to someone and mentioned that I had three sons. The person asked their ages and I responded, "26, 24 and 23."
There was no gasp.
There was no look of surprise.
There was no utterance of amazement that such a fresh young thing such as myself could have children almost as old as I am.
Instead, this happened:
"Oh, how nice! Do you have any grandchildren?"
*blink*
*blink*
Grandchildren?
Grandchildren?? Excuse me while I eat my own face and ponder how you could possibly believe I was old enough for grandchildren... |
(It's slightly possible that I looked over my shoulder at this point to see if they were talking to someone else... Someone much, much older than I am. They weren't.)
I started getting philosophical and nostalgic one night last weekend (alcohol may have been involved) and was musing about all the amazing things that have happened in my lifetime.
I said things like, "The world is a completely different place than it was 50 years ago. Man walked on the moon..."
*long pause*
*embarrassingly long pause*
I couldn't think of anything else.
Because I'm old as fuck and becoming senile.
This is the only thing that happened in the past 50 years, according to my brain. |
Anyway, so while my brain is having difficulty believing that I am, indeed, at the very least middle-aged, my body is having no problem believing it at all.
My body is like, "Oh, praise Jesus... we can finally take this Spanx off and officially fall apart."
Gray hair began growing from my hairline so fast that overnight, I went from looking like a woman with shiny brunette locks to Pepe LePew.
Hairs started leaping from my chin in a single bound, sprouting up to three inches in just a matter of hours. (Possibly even minutes.)
I began waking up every night sweating like a pig.
And without warning, the hot flashes arrived.
And in less than one week's time, I grew a second chin and my boobs hit the floor.
Then I developed a slight tic in my left eye.
And I started my period.
"WHAT THE FUUUUCK???" I screamed at a box of tampons, "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT??? I CANNOT HAVE A BEARD, A MUSTACHE, GRAY HAIR, SAGGING TITS, HOT FLASHES, NIGHT SWEATS, AND MY PERIOD!!! "
Oddly enough, the tampons didn't answer.
(Karma, however, came through like a champ and delivered unto me a zit on my right cheek.)
Behold and rejoice: FUCK YOU, MOTHER NATURE. |
(I'm especially looking forward to the part where my teeth loosen and my gums recede. Can I get that first, please?)
Dear 50,
I can't fucking wait.
Love,
Dani
So yeah... long story short, if you want to send me something for my birthday, this is all I want:
Every time I see that basket in one of my apartments, I die a little inside, because I know the chaos that generally follows...
ReplyDeleteJust remember, if you're going to drink all that booze, you need to be taking your Centrum silver. Osteoporosis and all that good stuff.
Absolutely. Strong bones first, booze second.
DeleteNow, send me the next one you see.
YOU ARE WAY TO YOUNG TO HAVE CHILDREN IN THEIR 20S!!! GASP, SHOCK, AWE!
ReplyDeleteThere, did that help? I love you, even if you are an old broad. Now . . . email me your address, babe. I asked for your new address on my blog yesterday (calling you out specificially by name) and this is what I got . . .
((crickets))
((crickets))
Yeah. So . . . adress, please. :p
IF you recall, I WAS BUSY YESTERDAY. I DIDN'T READ MY OWN BLOG, LET ALONE ANYONE ELSE'S.
DeleteAND NOW I FEEL HORRIBLE.
I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY.
I'M SHOUTING BECAUSE I'M DEAF, DUE TO MY EXTREME AGE.
Damn woman, I think you're old enough (*snerk*) to buy your own freaking booze. Although I agree that stealing a birthday basket from some 21-year-old named Rachel who isn't going to properly appreciate it ANYWAY is probably a lot more fun.
ReplyDeleteAlso the bit about the Body Apocalypse hitting all at once made me laugh so hard I choked on my Pepsi and almost died. My co-workers thank you for that brief glimpse of a post-me world. Very thoughtful of you.
EXACTLY. (The part about stealing Rachel's birthday basket.) I would be doing the booze A FAVOR if I drank it for her.
DeleteBody Apocalypse... You need to market that term.
Instead of Zombies, the world will be filled with cranky menopausal women dragging their tits behind them as they take over sorority houses and drink the booze bouquets of perky 21 year olds named Rachel.
xo
Hey, but the alternative sucks. At my age I love telling people to fuck off if they disappoint me, or cut me off in traffic, or breathe. It's fun when they find out this "sweet old lady" can swear like a sailor.
ReplyDelete50 is good, 60 is great and I'm thinking that 70 will be killer....I'll let you know.
Just remember, you aren't getting old...you're becoming "Chronologically Gifted"
I do love being gifted, this is true. It makes me feel special.
DeleteWhaaat? THERE'S NO WAY YOU COULD POSSIBLY BE 50! This must be some kind of blog prank! I don't believe it! No way!
ReplyDeleteThank you, dollface!
DeleteYour check is in the mail.
I think you're gonna kick 50s ass so fucking hard that it'll forget all of the ways it was supposed to fuck you up... Then in a panic, it'll give you the exact opposite of what's going on in that picture, thus making you a 20 year old. Huzzah!!!!
ReplyDeleteBirthday Hugs!
Valerie
Which means, in a nutshell, that I need new shoes.
DeleteWhich is what I got out of that... yes?
There's NO WAY you're almost 50!! You sure as hell don't look it. Also, kids in your 20's?!?! The hell you say!?!?! I think someone altered your birth certificate just to be hateful. I'd double check it...
ReplyDeleteI'm serious! It's totally true! Wanna see my ID? Do ya? Huh? Do ya?
DeleteTurning 50 is certainly scary because most likely there is more of your life behind you than in front of you. You're welcome. It's also the point at which you start being grateful for birthdays, rather than dreading them. I went straight to 51 because I hated the sound of 50. You'll be fine. And you do not look anywhere near 50.
ReplyDeleteI think I'd rather head right back to 48... can I do that?
DeleteI can, right?
And thank you <3
Ah yes...you've joined the 'club'. Maybe we should be beating younger women with a club for still being young?
ReplyDeleteI'm praying I get senile so I won't notice the aforementioned whiskers, sagging, flashing, and....and....shit. I forget what else.
Lovin you!
Tooth loosening and nipple flattening, Dana!! DON'T FORGET THE TOOTH LOOSENING AND NIPPLE FLATTENING!!
Deletexoxoxo
Yeah, I'm totally looking forward to those events. Just made a note to check nipples and gums tonight. I'll report back...if I remember...
DeleteGah... I'm not fifty yet, and I think I have all those things happening to me already! Zits, periods, hot flashes, sagging... tooth loosening is next?
ReplyDeleteTooth loosening, incontinence, flatulence, sagging, drooling, and then...
Deletedeath.
Which will come as sweet relief.
Oh, Cupcake... Like a fine wine, you get better with age, yeah? No? I'm sorry.
ReplyDeleteSo *this* is what I have to look forward to... Only I'll still be single and childless. Main difference I'll also be barren. Great.
*grabs bottle of vodka*
Who cares if you're about to be 50? You're hot.
ReplyDeleteThat said, I'm sorry about the hot flashes and other stuff.
Heyyyyyy.....as a 50 year old GrandMother I would like to go on record as saying FUCK EVERYTHING YOU SAID! You're only old if you wanna be....:)
ReplyDeleteI was thinking that when I made it to the end of your post, and the comments, I'd have thought of something gracious or enlightening to say. Nope. Now excuse me while I crawl into bed with a bottle of vodka.
ReplyDeleteI think I've said before that you look NOWHERE NEAR your age.
ReplyDeleteI have no wisdom for age-milestones I'm afraid. :/ All I know is GOD HELP ME when I get older, because I have most of those symptoms already...
I hope you had a nice birthday, and that you got your bouquet of liquor!! I'd give you the last of the moonshine if you lived nearby. 190 proof--it's good stuff.
xoxo