Spring Chicken
I have a birthday coming up in a few weeks. I am not telling you this, to solicit birthday wishes. I don't post my birthday on Facebook, because I don't like to have a big deal made out of my birthday. There are only 2 people allowed to make a big deal out of my birthday- my mother and Doug. However, Doug can't make too much of a big deal. It's a slippery slope he walks at birthdays, and there are very few times he gets it just perfect. Not because he's a flunky, but because I am a pain in the arse (as if I would be anything less). There are unspoken rules, but if he were a good husband he would know what I want done for my birthday. See- he has to know the exact amount of effort I want him to put into the occasion- without me telling or indicating in any way what I want. And, the effort I expect changes from day to day, mood to mood. Sometimes I want a nice dinner out without children- to a good restaurant and I want a good dessert. Other moments I want pizza at home with the kids, sitting on the couch watching movies and eating good dessert. And then other times I want to go out to eat, someplace I like (that's not Chick Fil A) with children, who don't act like heathens, and a good dessert. The only thing consistent is good dessert, or so it seems. Good dessert could be Cheesecake Factory, milkshake from Chick Fil A, or m&m's. Poor Doug.
The actual point of this post is not to make myself look like a wacko, it's to tell you that everytime I say my upcoming age or think it, I am surprised by how old it sounds. I'll be 37. Doesn't that sound old? Ok- there are many of you who are a bit older and thinking, "Uh no. Actually, no, that sounds sort of young, Kate." Well, for the record 40, 50, nor 60 sound old, but 37 and 38 do sound old (so does 48- but that's a ways off for me). How can I be that old?! Shouldn't I be more mature? Should I not still love a young adult, sappy, overly dramatic love story? Shouldn't I read newspapers, like politics, and watch the news? I find myself being surprised that I am not a twenty something- until I hang out with a twenty something and then I realize. I am an old fart. I can't stay up past 11 (unless I am reading and then I can conveniently stay up until 1:00am, but I have to nap the next day). I never drink, not because I don't like it or have some disagreement with alcohol, but because as soon as I do, I am out like a light. If I do manage to drink more than one drink, I puke. I got through college, and my twenties without puking, now I puke. Those are the only 2 things I don't like about not being a twenty something. I am totally fine with not trying to figure out my career path. Now I dream about the fun, after retirement job. I dream about my not kid friendly house (let's face it- it'll have to be my widow house- Doug will never want to live in the historic district of a small beach town, in a colorful, comfortable bungalow, where the local townspeople are quirky in delighful and quaint ways, but not in weird or uncomfortable ways and I don't need my hybrid car because I just ride my bicycle to the local farmer's market where I load up on healthy, locally grown food. Not that I've put a lot of thought into this or anything).
I don't mind being 37, I just don't like the implications of being 37. I am afraid people have expectations that I should be mature, knowledgeable about current events, care about politics, and not wear sparkle nail polish. Since I am none of those things, I guess I am still 36. Cause you can get by with that stuff when you're 36.
The actual point of this post is not to make myself look like a wacko, it's to tell you that everytime I say my upcoming age or think it, I am surprised by how old it sounds. I'll be 37. Doesn't that sound old? Ok- there are many of you who are a bit older and thinking, "Uh no. Actually, no, that sounds sort of young, Kate." Well, for the record 40, 50, nor 60 sound old, but 37 and 38 do sound old (so does 48- but that's a ways off for me). How can I be that old?! Shouldn't I be more mature? Should I not still love a young adult, sappy, overly dramatic love story? Shouldn't I read newspapers, like politics, and watch the news? I find myself being surprised that I am not a twenty something- until I hang out with a twenty something and then I realize. I am an old fart. I can't stay up past 11 (unless I am reading and then I can conveniently stay up until 1:00am, but I have to nap the next day). I never drink, not because I don't like it or have some disagreement with alcohol, but because as soon as I do, I am out like a light. If I do manage to drink more than one drink, I puke. I got through college, and my twenties without puking, now I puke. Those are the only 2 things I don't like about not being a twenty something. I am totally fine with not trying to figure out my career path. Now I dream about the fun, after retirement job. I dream about my not kid friendly house (let's face it- it'll have to be my widow house- Doug will never want to live in the historic district of a small beach town, in a colorful, comfortable bungalow, where the local townspeople are quirky in delighful and quaint ways, but not in weird or uncomfortable ways and I don't need my hybrid car because I just ride my bicycle to the local farmer's market where I load up on healthy, locally grown food. Not that I've put a lot of thought into this or anything).
I don't mind being 37, I just don't like the implications of being 37. I am afraid people have expectations that I should be mature, knowledgeable about current events, care about politics, and not wear sparkle nail polish. Since I am none of those things, I guess I am still 36. Cause you can get by with that stuff when you're 36.
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