(addendum: Not my birthday or anything, just thinking about it today. Feel free to send gifts anyways.)
Had you told my 16 year-old self that someday I would be twice that age plus one, I would have immediately imagined myself with a walker, sagging support hose, and attempting to use expired coupons for cigarette brands that no longer exist.
When you're 16, you admire people in their 20's- they can legally go to the bars that you only get into via wriggling through the moldy bathroom vents, and they (unless of course I dated them) had their own apartments.
"Independence!" screams the 20-something years.
But the 30s? The 30s where where you went to wither and die an unremarkable death. The 30's were where a leather miniskirt started looking "comical" rather than "cool", and where rocking a studded army jacket and ripped flannels to the grocery store started looking "homeless" rather than "edgy".
"Pathetic and mediocre!" screams the 30-something years, to a 10-something person.
Well...at least that's what my 16 year-old mind interpreted this current decade of my life to be. Sixteen year-old me didn't bother to plan for the next two hours, let alone the next two decades.
But here I am: alive, well, and not a pair of granny panties or bottle of Metamucil in sight. I mostly have all my original teeth, and I have yet to accidentally poop my pants. So far.
I made a list a while ago of all of the parts about me that have most noticeably changed since 1987ish, and I may as well post it here in the private forums known as the interwebs:
- knees- my left knee is slowly disintegrating, eventually I expect it to have the consistency of homemade applesauce. I'm going to hold out for surgery until I can get one of those replacement knees that plays the theme to "Sanford and Son" when I walk.
- Back- My posture is horrifying these days, but I figure down the road I'll have a second career as a hunchback at a Disney theme park somewhere.
- Sleeping habits- actually improved. Gone is the insomnia of my 20's. Now I'm working towards the "sleeping 22 hours a day" of my 80's, much like a cat.
- Feet- Man, these things don't age well, do they? I think I might know now what corns and bunions are, but that doesn't mean I want to.
- Hair- The stuff on my head is better than ever, yet grayer than ever, and luckily I have (so far) been spared the freakish and random stray hairs that people I know sometimes find on things like chins, ears, foreheads and such. The day I have to get my ears waxed is the day I start limiting my clothing to colorful nylon sport suits with metallic tennies.
- Face- I am (so far) loving everything about how my face is aging. Cheekbones appeared out of nowhere, and that cluster of hairy warts between my eyes is hardly noticeable anymore.
- Butt- Though I spend much, much more time suffocating it on the couch for marathon sessions of "Law and Order", it seems to be holding up. No "flat, saggy, old lady ass" happening, and luckily (knock on wood) no extreme widening or looking like a pair of cheap pantyhose stuffed with jell-o fruit salad.
- temperament- I have (mostly) given up the angry, pan-throwing, road-raging, starting fights in line for communion ways of my 20s. These days I mete it out sparingly, so if I go to town on you with a verbally abusive tirade that drags in your mother's possible past as a prostitute and that time you had sex with a sheep- you can sure as hell know that you definitely earned it.
- Humor- Where, in my youth, tripping and falling in front of a busload of Italian male models or not noticing that my skirt is tucked into my underpants until four hours after dressing would cause me to retreat into my room for three weeks to write angsty poetry about the incidents and how I blame it all on society's treatment of third-world kittens, now I just laugh it off. Oh, and sometimes take pictures and post it on my blog. I really just don't give a crap anymore, and we all know that shit is funny.
- Sex- I'm going for quality rather than quantity these days. When I want it I want it, but when I don't the Mr. best move on and leave me with my magazines, prescription pills and wine coolers. Let's just say that this is a slight (read: huge) change from my early 20's, but much like bathing and combing my hair- It gets done only when the mood strikes me. Sometimes I'm squeaky clean and have shiny, bouncy hair for weeks, sometimes I look like I spent the last week sleeping in a lice-infested monkey cave.
But seriously- if the booze, Velveeta and Doritos don't strike me down in the near future and I actually make it to 80-90, how bad is it going to be? I found an image generator that gave me an idea:
50-60 years from now:
Happy Wednesday, my aging little lice monkeys. Happy Wednesday.
Sexy! Happy birthday!
Happy Birthday! So you're a near miss - Valentine's Day baby?
The blog looks fab. Thanks for all the entertainment.
I read in the paper today that it's Jennifer Aniston's 40th birthday. She looks pretty damn fantastic at 40 and let's see you're 37? So you got at least 3 more years of beautiful.
I'll be 45 this year and damn if it doesn't feel like the calendar has been dorked with... At least mentally, that is. Physically, everything went to shit 5 yrs. ago.
btw: You look a bit like a Clairol'd version of Jessica Tandy in your aged pic.
I am 47, but your post seemed spot-on. Yeah, some parts don't stay as dewy and tight as we'd like them to, but I am really loving the "not giving a rat's ass what anyone thinks" part that comes with aging and seems like a real gift. Especially for us women, who were raised to care far, far too much.
Happy Birthday, Whiskey! I'll be joining you at table 37 in a few months.
Have a great one!
Oops- I didn't mean for anyone to think it's my birthday (it's not)- you'd totally know if it was because I'll have a countdown, party favors, champagne, and you'd be buying me presents.
Mostly I was just pondering on my age and how I feel about it.
Sorry to be my usual confusing self...
Talk to me when you hit 48. I'm actually turning 49 later this year, which means I've got a year to come to terms with reaching "THE BIG 5-0!!!"
You're beautiful - have a WONDERFUL birthday!!!
I thought your birthday was a different time of the year; I'm glad I'm not (totally) losing my mind. Still, this was a timely post for me, as I'm turning 40 on Friday. I was always worried about my 30's, then my 40's and now that it's here, I don't care so much. I feel like I'm still holding up fairly well too but I would never be brave enough to do that image generator thing. You have many years of hotness ahead of you.
What was the age generator link? I wanna see if I'm going to look like my mom. Your left knee too eh? Bummer - isn't it?
Oh and my previous word verification was revasise. Maybe this what we all need to do to stay young...
Funny you should mention your knee, I am only 27 and take a yoga class with bunch of women in their 30s and 40s, however my knee is the only one that cracks constantly when going from childs pose to snake pose. Its terrible.
Anyway bad knee or not you still have many years of hotness ahead of you.
Getting old sucks. I do take glances in the mirror at my ass to make sure it doesn't look old. Thankfully, it still looks pretty good.
My fear is the saggy ball thing that I see on old guys at the gym. Frightening.
Well played, Ms. Whiskey. I should hope to still look so intact at 37, which you're right, seemed like everything John Hughes movies warned about to a 16-year-old Me.
Or, since I had a predilection for angsty poetry as well, I likely would have said that would be well past the time when I would have seen the moment of my greatness flicker.
37?!? You don't look a day over 30 in that first picture, hehehe. Well, you are keeping pretty well, I must say. I hope I'm in that good of condition when I'm 37. Which is only a mere 6 years away now that I'm 31 as of Monday.
And, it takes a lot to make me laugh out loud when reading blogs. This one did the trick today. I think it was the part about not pooping your pants yet.
I love the picture! I would love to see what I will look like in 50 years. And the list of body parts is so funny. I was just telling my cat (Fred) that my knees are not aging so well. Must be a 30's thing.
You're still a long ways from aging. When you get there you'll know because it sucks.
There is no upside to aging, that's for certain.
Dudette, I'm 37 too and I'm sorry to bring it to your attention but we are 18 doubled plus 1. They says after the butt the mind goes. :)
The San Diego Science Museum used to have an age generator machine that was a tool of the devil, or the religious right, take your pick. It let you factor in smoking, drinking, drugs, and anything else people do for fun. It turned out an image of your future self, invariably a hideous vision. Just Say No, indeed.
Kat- At least I can say that I've ALWAYS been bad at math, so I've got that going for me, which is nice.
Well, and I'm a total tard.
You look great! I also didn't plan ahead for my 30s when I was 16 or so because I just assumed that I'd no longer wish to live at that age.
I see some people aren't paying attention and think it's your birthday. But only those of us who truly worship all things VonPartypants are privy to important information like that, let alone have the good sense tobe born in May.
Well, the good news is, now, at 37, do you really care what 16-year-olds think? Of course not. And as someone who was NINE when you were NONE, I can tell you that barring a few um, ...frustrations, I've enjoyed my 40s mre than my 30s OR 20s. I think it gets better, Whiskeymarie. : )
A couple of final thoughts:
A) I can tell you're going to be a GILF (since you're sure to be a grandmother to kitties, and
B) Please don't disparage those beautiful feets.
Until your REAL birthday, my dear...
Well, I was going to blow the whistle on the whole 'fuzzy math' thing you had going on, but I got beat to the punch.
I vaguely remember 37.
It was 6 years ago for me, and as I guy, I guess I came to the whole 'who gives a shit what others think' thing earlier.
Like when I was 16 or so. Maybe earlier. In any event, thanks for another fun post (and even tho it's not your birthday) I'm assembling another little package for you as well.
Buenos con queso,
You definitely don't look 37. But you knew that.
I am certain you were a much wilder child in your teens and 20s than I was, and I think you look younger than me. Who knew living the rock and roll lifestyle was a formula for not aging? Clearly you should write a book.
I don't think it is your birthday. No no no... these are your random musings and photoshopping moments.
I like the way you assess yourself. You look great at 37. Fuck that- it is your attitude that will carry you far.
What the hell do I know? I am only 51. (*cough cough*)
Shit my verification word is scrotch. scrotch? Christ on a waffle, your blog is like an acid trip sometimes.
But I loved your hairy warts!
Ya know: you can't actually SEE those hairy warts the older you get!
I KNOW: I'm 48. (*coughing with Fran*)
word verification=cared. Hmmm...
i thought i left you a happy birthday note, but i don't see it and now i can't remember if i left it or just thought about leaving it because i left some other happy birthday notes yesterday too..... i though i had a music video for you too, but i can't remember what it was...
happy birthday Whiskeymarie....
I just turned 34, and I noticed the beginnings of those long, crazy old man eyebrows growing in. I think it's the greatest thing ever for some reason.
p.s. 90-year-old me would totally hit that.
I see an illustrious career in granny porn ahead of you.
Fuck, I'm older than you. I guess I need to start being a better role model and shit. Send the link to the generator, I feel like toturing myself.
Word verify? doglint. Where the hell do they keep it since they don't have pockets?
Oh shit I wasn't prepared for the "whiskeydonemeinmarie" (aka 50-60 years from now)
May you age much gracefuller. Or maybe not cuz that Sanford and son knee replacement would be seriously awesome.
And if it matters, I will still love you. In fact I might get a matching knee replacement and we can hobble our saggy asses and humped backs down to the bingo hall together
Whiskey gets better as it ages, doesn't it?
Yes, yes it does.
hilarious and completely true as usual! one of my most used phrases is, "the older I get, the less I care." Which is extremely liberating in my opinion.
Happy not your birthday. it's not mine either!
So when you get older you're giving up washing your face all together? Excellent plan!
The young me would be ashamed of the present me if they met, and the present me is ashamed of the younger me. I guess that’s the natural order of things.
I've got you beat by a year and one artificial hip!
Ok- I have the humor of being 45- and things are a lot funnier now such as trippy over my granny panties etc.
My temerament is still the pan throwing, fight starting stuff that I will never be too old for. I am going to be the 90 yo lady in the wheelchair trying to run people off the nursing home hallway!
But you are going to still look good in 50 years!
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