40: The New 30?
A funny guy once said that age is a high price to pay for maturity. And the other day, I read that "40 is the new 30", or at least according to the Anti-Aging e-Journal. I say that it all depends on which part of 30s they talk about here, so I know if I am to be excited or scared.
People tackle age, and the postponement of its effects, as this major mind and body preoccupation. Me, I just take it as it comes because I was quite in a hurry to grow up, back in the day, so I shouldn't be surprised to find myself finally here. Now, if moderation, as opposed to excessiveness in all things, is the right tack, then I must be going the right way.
Thanks to Demi Moore and the 'Desperate Housewives', women who grudgingly count the years, now have these fine examples of what they can fight hard to have and to keep, and that goes for me as well. Although Ashton Kutcher appeals to me in a sloppy-dog kind of way, meaning, zero attraction, and in the same manner that I am a housewife, but no desperate, I find that I enjoy reaping on the added wisdom brought about by maturity, in exchange for a few aching bones. The wise-cracking guy is right, and I'm sure these girls will agree with me.
I'll be turning 42 in a few months, and not without my vanities, I assure you. I enjoy that I am often mistaken to be my eldest daughter's older sister, although I try to be as unaffected of that as possible, keeping in mind that just the other day while shopping for dinner in the market, some fish vendor called out to me with "Mom" ( or something to that effect ), to call attention to his merchandise. The nerve. So you see, it balances out. And I'm quite positive that nothing to be served on my table will ever come from that boy.
"By the time you're eighty years old you've learned everything. You only have to remember it.", old George Burns once said. At this point, that should take another lifetime for me, but I'd do well not to forget it, once I get there.
Filed Under: Randomly
People tackle age, and the postponement of its effects, as this major mind and body preoccupation. Me, I just take it as it comes because I was quite in a hurry to grow up, back in the day, so I shouldn't be surprised to find myself finally here. Now, if moderation, as opposed to excessiveness in all things, is the right tack, then I must be going the right way.
Thanks to Demi Moore and the 'Desperate Housewives', women who grudgingly count the years, now have these fine examples of what they can fight hard to have and to keep, and that goes for me as well. Although Ashton Kutcher appeals to me in a sloppy-dog kind of way, meaning, zero attraction, and in the same manner that I am a housewife, but no desperate, I find that I enjoy reaping on the added wisdom brought about by maturity, in exchange for a few aching bones. The wise-cracking guy is right, and I'm sure these girls will agree with me.
I'll be turning 42 in a few months, and not without my vanities, I assure you. I enjoy that I am often mistaken to be my eldest daughter's older sister, although I try to be as unaffected of that as possible, keeping in mind that just the other day while shopping for dinner in the market, some fish vendor called out to me with "Mom" ( or something to that effect ), to call attention to his merchandise. The nerve. So you see, it balances out. And I'm quite positive that nothing to be served on my table will ever come from that boy.
"By the time you're eighty years old you've learned everything. You only have to remember it.", old George Burns once said. At this point, that should take another lifetime for me, but I'd do well not to forget it, once I get there.
Filed Under: Randomly
Poppycock | 10/12/2005 |
<< Home