...and now I am. There have been small beacons over the last few years, signaling that my maturation is in full effect and inevitable. But the other day it hit me, hit me hard. With Good Housekeeping as my catalyst a Top 20 List quickly compiled itself in my head and thus, I give to you:
The Top 20 Things That Told Me, "You're Old!"
1) Gray Hair ~ At the age of 25, I was at work and there it was, shining in the ever-flattering fluorescent lights of the second floor bathroom, a silver, glistening thread, front and center. Unnoticeable to most but to me, it felt like I was wearing a headlamp. I plucked it immediately...then bought hair dye. And that's been my routine since, pluck, hair dye, repeat. I'm not ready to look seasoned.
2) Old Hands ~ I have pretty mannish hands to begin with thanks to my dad. My fingers aren't long and slender and my nails refuse to grow past the ends of my fingertips. They are a decent size and I pride myself with the fact that I can open jars without assistance. And while I would never be asked to hand model, my paws are starting to look less youthful and more like Sarah Jessica Parker's. From satin to leather...
3) The "What If" Facelift ~ Women do it all the time. You look in the mirror and tug, pull and pinch your face at varying angles and tensions thinking, "What if..." Realistically, most of us will never be getting a facelift nor do we really truly want one. But for a few seconds, it's nice to make my perma-frown disappear and pick up the jowls that seem to be inching their way ever-downward...along with various other body parts.
4) Weather Pains ~ Actually 2 things: I have a bad knee and only old people have bad knees. But back to my list, I blame increased pain in my knee on the weather. When autumn's initial cold front finally hit us this year, my knee seemed to ache more than usual and I said to myself, "It must be the weather." Oh my God. My dad says that. What the hell is happening? Walk it off...walk it off...
5) Hip Pop ~ I like to dance although recently it's been more in the living room with my kids or by myself in front of the mirror while doing my hair. Either way, I used to be able to shake it with some decency and still think I can most days. The only difference is that my hip often pops now. Yup, a sexy dance ain't so sexy when your hip is snapping. Aging: 1, Ego: 0.
6) Get Up Grunt ~ I remember being little and wondering why my mom and dad would grunt when they'd stand up after sitting or laying down for a period of time. And now that I am doing it, I still don't know why it is but throatily uttering, "Ugh" while rising from an afternoon nap on the couch seems to be where it's at.
7) Hangover and over and over ~ I remember the days in which a hangover would last, maybe 12 hours. It was nothing a big breakfast and lengthy nap wouldn't take care of and you were sure to be ready to battle your next bottle of Boone's Farm by the following nightfall. These days, the average hangover lasts 36-48 hours, no exception, just two days of complete hell-hole misery.
8) De-whoring Halloween ~ Gone are the days of the slutty Halloween costume. My friend and I used to head to Hot Topic every year and spend more money than we had purchasing truly whorifying costumes. The more pleather the better. Halloween was the best reason to wear fishnets and bare our midriffs, despite the 40 degree temperatures. Let me tell you about my last few Halloweens. Vampire, Cleopatra, geisha, zombie and last year I was nothing because I'd just given birth so I jokingly said I was a MILF. None of the aforementioned were the slutty versions. How do you create a slutty zombie?
9) So long Juniors/Misses ~ I think I probably tried to shop in the Misses and Juniors departments as long as I could and now I've finally reached the point where I can't even find anything in those departments I'd be willing to put on my body. Less fitted, more flowy. If I feel like showing off something, I'll belt the shirt. I've even migrated to the super-duper mature areas of certain stores to see if I can't land a nice cardigan.
9 a) I have been known to wear a brooch on certain occasions during the winter months. Don't judge me.
10) Crafting ~ I frequent craft stores...and like it. I've purchased fake flowers, acrylic paints, fabric and even asked for a sewing machine for Christmas. Where I once would see homemade items and think, "Booorrrinng," I now thing, "Cute!" or "Good idea!" This leads me to #11...
11) Quilting ~ I am clutching to my youth by refusing to start quilting but everyday, I wish that I did. I'm repressing that part of me but I know eventually it's going to usurp my youth and turn me into a denture-wearing hag surrounded by tiny threads left over from her most recent quilting bee.
12) Canning ~ This fall, I canned. I didn't just can a half dozen pickles. No no, I bought a bushel of tomatoes, a half bushel of peaches, 5 lbs. of cucumbers and beans, all to can for the first time. I jumped in with both feet. It was okay. :)
13) Lady Parties ~ I've started attending and even hosting all those lady parties you hear about in which various items are sold, candles, purses, jewelry, makeup, lotions, etc. Why don't they have these for guys? Why aren't guys getting together every week to sell each other hunting and fishing gear?
14) Holiday Dinners ~ I have also hosted my family's Thanksgiving dinners for the last two years. This was essentially the role that Mom has always played. Dinners were always at her house, always. That was tradition, we strayed once or twice when I was little but always went back to Mom's. There was a reason it was there, tradition. Tradition is now reaching at me with its long, Sarah Jessica Parker fingers and now Thanksgiving dinners at my house are being quilted into its blanket.
15) Car Shopping ~ I used to want a Jeep Wrangler. Now it's not even in my list of top five. Unless you have a third row, you're not even considered at this point. If you can't hold three carseats, a stroller and $300 worth of groceries, then I can't buy you. I can't even look at you. Kids, and age, have made me practical.
16) Those Young Bastard Drivers ~ Newly licensed teens piss me off. Even those invincible twenty-somethings make my blood boil. Travelling at reckless speeds, swerving in and out trying to thread traffic, thinking it isn't slippery after a hard rain, riding my ass because I prefer to exceed speed limits by 5-10 mph and not 20. Oh well, can't waste my time on the dim-witted. Why are they in such a hurry anyway (shoutout to my dad)?!
17) That Trashy Music ~ Below is this week's Billboard Top 10
1) Someone Like You - Adele
2) Moves Like Jagger - Maroon 5 feat. Christina Aguilera
3) Pumped Up Kicks - Foster the People
4) Sexy And I Know It - LMFAO
5) Stereo Hearts - Gym Class Heroes feat. Adam Levine
6) Party Rock Anthem - LMFAO
7) We Found Love - Rihanna feat. Calvin Harris
8) Without You - David Guetta feat. Usher
9) You Make Me Feel... - Cobra Starship feat. Sabi
10) You and I - Lady Gaga
I like three of these songs. Three of them. Not even half. I won't say which three because I don't want to start a debate but the point is, I can only tolerate 30% of what is played on the radio today! When those three songs aren't playing, the only thing I hear is my mother's voice resonating in my ear when I was younger, "How can you listen to this?" Seriously people, how can you listen to Rihanna this?
18) Child Athletes ~ While watching ESPN and their breaking news of an athlete signing a trillion dollar contract one day, I asked my husband how old the said athlete was. "24 or 25 I think," he replied. What the what?! Seriously! My husband and I watch a lot of sports and I often forget that the majority of the sports figures nowadays are all younger than me. Like, more than a few years younger. I can no longer think some random football player's butt is cute because, he's basically a child for pete's sake! Ultimately I suppose I'll limit myself to viewing golf although, the U.S. Open winner this year was only 22 years old. Do they even televise the Senior tour?
19) Movie Remakes ~ This one may anger me the most because people are taking classic films from my generation and revamping them to appeal to another generation. Not cool Hollywood. Not. Cool. A few things: Ralph Macchio has always been and will always be The Karate Kid. Hell, he could still play that role now, the guy is ageless. Ren MacCormack is played by Kevin Bacon, not some random dude that a few girls in some focus group thought was cute. He's not by the way. And to even talk of a Dirty Dancing remake is blasphemous and profane. I'm verklempt.
20) Good Housekeeping ~ And this brings me to what spurred all of the above. I was checking out at the grocery store yesterday. Amongst the soda, candy, energy pills and popular rags that line the checkout aisle, I picked up Good Housekeeping. As early as the week before I would have picked up People, or US Weekly, or Star even. No. Something drew me towards Good Housekeeping. Maybe it was the autumn-inspired cover laced with pumpkins and fall-y treats. Maybe it was its list of fall decorating ideas and recipes. Maybe it was PMS. No matter, as Good Housekeeping sang to me its siren song, I realized, "This is it. This is the end. Old at 30." Then I paid for my hair dye and headed home.
In not working, it's difficult to get out of the house on a regular basis and be inspired, thus my lack of entries as of late. But given that today is National Coming Out Day, I feel obligated to write something I've been trying to write for some time now, but just haven't found the words to accurately express what I'm trying to express. Additionally, I feel unqualified to comment since my personal experience with the gay community has been limited. But I do have an opinion so what the hell.
In the past I have sat down with three gay people and asked (because this seems to be a big item of debate), "When did you realize you were gay?" I asked because since the beginning of debate, we seem to be stuck on this whole Nature vs. Nurture thing. Are you born gay or are do you become gay? Is it genetic or acquired? Is it contagious? Please. All three stated they knew they were "different" (their word, not mine) from a very young age. So after having some honest conversation with some gay people, I can't believe that being gay is something you become. Others disagree. Be that as it may, does it matter? If you are or you choose to be? Shouldn't you be respected either way? I think so ...
...and others disagree. Vicious cycle...
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The population in Northern Michigan while relatively small, really runs the gamut of political, social and civil opinions. I have seen both extremes and everything in between represented here and it is much more evident because we are a smaller community. I respect the difference of opinion but a few weeks ago, a friend shared a story with me that was really touching and poignant. So, I'll reshare in short and hopefully my friend won't mind.
My friend's sister came out a little while ago. As of a few weeks ago, most of her friends and family knew however her grandparents did not, her grandfather being described to me as a staunch conservative. There was some worry on how they would react and I can only assume it was kept from them as there was some level of fear on how they would react, if they would be hurt, disappointed, etc. At this point, I'm a little heartbroken because I can't imagine what it would be like, what it would feel like, to be something and fear that the ones who you love the most wouldn't support you in that or would be let down by you, whether it's for being gay, pursuing an unlikely career or making some unexpected decision. Your every hope would be that you'd have their unconditional backing, yes? Lack thereof wouldn't change anything, however, it would have to break you a little bit inside, I'm sure.
Anyway, my friend's sister finally came out to her grandparents and ... what do you know? They love their granddaughter. They support her and respect her and hold her just as dear as they ever did. How amazing! I was so happy for her, so happy for her grandparents and her whole family in general. To have the acceptance, love and support of those closest to her. Shouldn't everyone have that?
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I don't want to get into a big argument about it. Like I said, I respect the difference of opinion but will never respect hate and unfortunately, there's a lot of the latter. It makes me sad and confused. Why hate someone for being who they are. It's like hating tall people. I'm 5'4", should I hate tall people because they're different than me? Should I hate blondes because they are and I'm not? Should we hate at all? That's rhetorical people.
My pie-in-the-sky hope is that anyone who is living with the fear of not being able to openly be what they want to be has at least one person, one person in their life who will not judge, not devalue and not hate them when it seems like all of society does. Maybe that one person will give them enough strength to carry on and live their life the way it should be lived, full and happy.
I know that my little blog post isn't going to change anyone's opinion. I would think that maybe not hurting a fellow human being, physically or emotionally would take precedent over some political viewpoint though. And to most, that's all this is. Politics, or religion. And if your God promotes hate then...I don't very much like your God.
Someone once wrote to Abigail Van Buren, better known as "Dear Abby," complaining that a gay couple had recently moved in across the street and they wanted to know what they could do to improve the quality of the neighborhood. Abby simply replied, "You could move."
http://www.itgetsbetter.org/
What is it about a game, a sport that turns adults into children again? Countless times, I have watched my adult husband who rarely gets visibly excited about anything (I think I got a "that's cool" when I told him we were going to spend a week in Cabo for our honeymoon), turn giddy with excitement at a play that gets made by one of his favorite sports teams. His voice gets all high, he will clap really loud, say "Yeah heah heah!!" and look for someone to high five (usually me or our 3 year old). There isn't anything else that does this to him. My husband isn't fond of strangers but I've seen him hug a few at a Tigers game that went into extra innings and was ultimately won by our beloved kitties after a Granderson walk-off (Grandy, we miss you). And I don't want to pigeon-hole these reactions to professional or college sports. We were at our niece's soccer game and she had the ball, dribbling it down the field towards the goal as fast as her little 8 year old legs could carry her. I watched my husband and our niece's grandpa jump up and down from one end of the field to the other screaming "GOOOOO! GOOOOO!" and when she made the goal, my husband and her grandpa threw their arms in the air and then I think they may have even made out.
And these emotions aren't limited to the real world. Have you ever found yourself cheering for the Dillon Panthers (later the East Dillon Lions) while watching Friday Night Lights? Who wasn't cheering for the T.C. Williams Titans, even though they were coached by Denzel Washington? The same goes for the West Canaan Coyotes and their conflicted leader, James Van Der Beek. And if you didn't cry when Kevin Costner pitched a perfect game for the Tigers then you have no soul. I mean, you even find yourself pulling for Charlie Sheen in Major League. Winning! What is it - that primal, internal force that makes us metamorphose into silly, impulsive kids. There's something about sports that just leaves us stupefied.
And why not? We all have some sort of competitive nature inside of us, whether it's on a sports field or within ourselves - we all strive to be the best at something. Sports just overtly illustrates that drive to compete and desire to win and succeed. Is there anyone out there who wants to lose, whether it's at a football game or Monopoly? No, the object is to win. Either for money, status or a sense of pride, none of us want to be stamped as "The Loser."
Who's your team? Your team. You have a team right? While it may be owned by some random b/millionaire, their purpose, their dignity, their history is yours. You call them "my Yankees" or "my Tigers." You identify with them. They represent you and your fellow fans. What are the Detroit Lions? Some would say that historically speaking, one of the worst teams in football - one of the sorriest - the only team to go 0-16 in one season - a team that wasted several draft opportunities on a series of defunct wide receivers. But to the Lions faithful, they represent Detroit (the city), Michigan (the state), blue-collar, a will-rise-again attitude. And more recently, if the Lions can claw their way back to prosperity, so can we. Lions fans take "pride" in their team. I'm willing to bet that there are some who have stuck with their Lions longer than with their spouses, for better or for worse. And the same goes around the country and across all leagues. A Steeler fan carries the same bag of emotions for their team...so does the Cubs fan (poor cubbies), so does the Yank...You even do it as a country. My husband and I were jumping up and down screaming "Go!!" during the Men's 4 X 100 Freestyle Relay in the 2008 Beijing Olympics, witnessing Jason Lezak and Team U.S.A.'s comeback against France to take gold - and we're not swimfans (terrible movie by the way). In fact, that may have been the first swimming race we ever witnessed and the only one since. But they were "our team," we are U.S.A. I've never felt so patriotic. I just teared up watching it on YouTube. If you have that relationship with your team, consider them an extension of you - if they win, you win. And if you win, you celebrate. "Yeah heah heah!" High five anyone?
Lastly, sports is pure. It is apolitical, although some try to defy that. It isn't religious although some claim it as their religion and it has no lingering effects outside of the occasional broken heart which gets snuffed out by the hope of the next game. The dips and dives of the emotions you feel during a game are genuine, like a child's. No filter, no inhibitions...24 karat emotions.
So while you may not watch sports regularly or consider yourself a fan, don't say your heart doesn't pound a little harder and that you don't get goosebumps when Rocky Balboa downs Ivan Drago in the final minutes of Rocky IV. Hell, even the Russians were cheering for him.
