I heard this woman on the radio the other day. The DJ’s were doing some sort of ridiculous bachelor-reality-type show on air, and she was calling in to play. She starts off by saying “Well hey there guys. My name is Betty and I’m 42 years young…”
The outcome of whether or not she got a date is irrelevant, and I don’t know because I switched stations after she said that. I absolutely HATE when people say “I’m this many years young”. No you are not. You are that many years OLD.
When people ask how many years you’ve inhabited this planet, they don’t state it “How young are you?” Or “How little time have you lived here”
It’s always, How LONG have you lived here, How OLD are you, Are those crows feet on your face or are you upset to see me?
People are so anxious about aging and so desperate to cling to their slowly-slipping-away-youth. Weight loss pills, wrinkle fighting cream, face-lift, boob lift, butt lift, its too much!
I can’t help but feel a pang of pity when I see 40 year old women going around dressed like Snooki from the Jersey Shore. I mean, I do laugh and take a photo, but then I feel bad for those women. What does it say about you that you can’t deal with the fact that yes, you are indeed getting older.
It’s like a roller coaster. You can’t wait to grow up when you’re young. Think of all the movies you’ll get to watch, how late you can stay up at night, all the junk food you’ll be able to eat. No one can tell you what to do (Ha! No one seemed to correct my mistake impression of adulthood) And then you reach the top. Probably around 20-25. KISS was right; Rock and Roll all night, and party every day. You don’t take life too seriously, just relax and have fun.
Then you start slipping downward. Not a lot at first. But you notice some lines around your eyes, and the way you can’t seem to chug that 5th beer the way you used to. And then…it happens. A younger person bumps into you at the store, and says “excuse me, Ma’am”
OH MY GOD! Sign me up for that exfoliation kit and wrinkle-be-gone pill!
Seriously people, wake up and smell the anti aging cream.
I realize that this is a bit rich, coming from someone who hasn’t hit that peak on the roller coaster yet and calls everyone Ma’am (its how I was raised). But a word to the wise…I can’t WAIT to get older.
I enjoyed my teens, although I could have done without the braces or huge glasses. I’m thoroughly enjoying my twenties (can still chug that 5th beer…for now)
And I’m hoping that when the day comes, in the very far off future, that I do turn *gasp* 30, 40, or hopefully even 60, I don’t freak out and sign up for the lifetime supply of Botox.
You’re not supposed to be 16 forever. (Thank God, could you imagine?) And I’m hoping that when I turn 40 I’m glad to be there. I hope my mindset is, “I experienced youth and I had fun, and now I’m ready for the next chapter in my life.” It doesn’t mean your life is over. Nor does it sentence you to complaining about back pains or yelling at kids to turn down their music for the next 30 years. (Shit, I did that yesterday. This kid was playing Coldplay in the apartment above me. I was not about to listen to that crap for the next hour.)
Aging should be celebrated, not feared. It’s a sign that you have lived and experienced life and all its glory. You’ve had ups, and most certainly downs. You’re still here to tell your stories.
And who said you can’t have fun when you’re older? Ever seen those Hover Rounds?
Remember your youth with a sense of nostalgia and look to your future with a feeling of excitement and optimism.
So remember kids…don’t let this
turn into this
Because no one wants to introduce their dad to someone if he looks like this guy
This has been your public service announcement for the day.