I will christen returning to my blog on my birthday. I am 35 (shut up, those of you who know I’m not; just go with it). I like that age. If I had to be stuck at an age, like on that TV series “Highlander” where the Immortals stayed the age at which they were killed, I’d say I’d like to be stuck at 35 (can you imagine being stuck as a teen? Almost a fate worse than death).
I am actually 54. I feel I must admit this since many of you know I have an adult son, and I don’t want anyone thinking I had him when I was like 12 or something. I’ve also considered saying that I’m 70, which would elicit comments on how amazingly good I looked. But then no one my age would want to hang out with me and I’d never get a date.
So why am I such a 35-ish fan? I figure that your 20s are fun, and you’re probably as hot as you’ll ever look, but it’s still a time of figuring yourself out. Once you get into your 30s, at least for us women, you’ve gotten past all the drama of youth, you may be in a committed, mature relationship, and you likely have a real job in your career. Your 20s are for trying life on. Your 30s are for wearing it.
So, in my last post I was all excited about getting carded for buying beer.
Well, I went to dinner the other night and noticed an AARP discount had been applied to my bill. I'm not complaining, I mean, I'll take a discount any time. But I didn't ask for it or show my card or anything. I guess my age just radiated all over the restaurant.
The other day I stopped by the store to pick up milk (which ended up as a whole cart full of crap). I also decided to buy some beer. I pretty much NEVER buy beer; I lost the taste for it back in my 20s when I drank enough to fill a small sea and gained a similar amount of weight. I now drink wine, which I'm kind of tired of.
In any case, my life has been pretty stressful lately, and I'm cutting back on going out drinking, so I thought perhaps a nice cold brewsky at the end of the day while I watched TV might perk me up.
So the cashier is ringing me up and asks for my ID. At first I"m all like, "aww, aren't you sweet." And she looks at me like, "you want this beer bitch; cough up that ID."
Since I know they just check a cutoff date (as opposed to figuring out your age), I admitted to my 51 years. I thought she'd be all, "wow, you look so young!" Or, "we have to card under 40 now." But no, she continued to look at me as if I was trying to pull something over on her.
Mind you, she was little more than a fetus. And I had no makeup on, since I was just on a quick store run. I will admit that without makeup on I do look a lot younger. I also look HIDEOUS. This is why I give up some youthfulness with a little makeup for a reduction in hideosity. (I know that's not a word; I just like it).
Hmm, I wonder what else being young-looking-but-hideous can get me...