To those who are older than me, you will be thinking “Oh please, you little brat!”, if you’re younger than me, you’ll be thinking “Oh, I am so sorry. Would you like the early bird discount?” and for those the same age, you will be kicking my shin under the table as a sign to shut the fuck up about it already.
In 5 days, it will be my birthday. This birthday will begin my very last year of my 20s before this old battle ax of a human vehicle rolls over in miles to the big 3-0. I am far less than pleased about it.
What’s that you say? Why yes, I have in fact heard that many women consider their 30s to be the best years of their lives. Their sex drive is at an all time high, they feel more confident and better about themselves and their bodies; or that’s what I’m told anyway.
I’m aware that age is just as number, and you’re only as old as you feel (so feel something young- bow chicka!) and all of that crap that people tell you to make you feel better instead of telling the truth that YES, you ARE in fact getting older- and the general consensus is that “young” is 20’s and under. What the hell is 30’s? It’s not even middle age but for some reason it just FEELS different. It feels different and I’m still a year away from it (a year and 5 days if we’re being technical… and oohhhh I so am.)
Even with the argument that 30 is not “old,” and blah blah blahing about age- age IS age. Age does rise over the years and you do get older and feel older- and damnit, I don’t care if you think I’m still a baby, I feel old as balls- and it’s NOT just because of the number I will turn on Wednesday.
The age creeping up on me was only the beginning. I could even handle the wrinkles… okay, no I couldn’t- but I suppose I didn’t have much of a choice without botox and mama doesn’t have that kind of cash.
So there was the age, and the wrinkles- both things I could not do too much about without a boatload of money or the fountain of youth. Learn to live with it. See it as… experience. Accept it as the new you- the person who laughed too much or made too many expressive faces. Men become more distinguished- why are wrinkles “bad” for us? Let me just talk myself up… and then bathe myself in wrinkle serum and hope for the best.
You throw the chronic back pain and the dozing off on the couch at 10pm and it becomes hard to resist your new self-label as “old”- but still, I talked myself down. I’m still in my twenties! People are still surprised that I have two kids! I still laugh at poop humor. I’m young! Stupid back and wrinkles and age can’t keep me down!
Just when you think your body and your mind and possibly even your boobs are done fucking with you and your pyche- the hair goes. GRAYS! Damn those grays! But those are an easy fix, right? You just gotta color your hair! Color that stupid hair and BYE BYE grays!
Unfortunately, when you first get them, what you are blissfully unaware of is that dye does not like to stick to hair strands with no pigment, because they are bitches and like to look like tinsel sticking out of your scalp.
I’m 28, about to turn 29, and my scalp looks like a Christmas tree. This is unacceptable!
Even still- this is not proof of my old age. My brother had a gray patch on his stupid head when he was about 6. I used to call him a fairy. It was fantastic.
What makes me old and possibly insane is what I chose to do next.
I know you can buy products to put on your hair in between colorings (after a disaster of epic proportions I am no longer allowed to color my own)- but just like an old crabby lady, I am CHEAP and that shit ain’t gonna fly, so ya know what I did? I went into the boys’ craft cabinet, got a brown market and COLORED MY GRAY HAIRS. I COLORED THEM. WITH A MARKER.
You know you’re getting old when you color your gray hairs with a marker. Seriously.
You’re thinking I’m totally insane, right? But it WORKED. No more grays! Well, as long as I don’t touch my scalp… then it will look like I was picking my ass after a giant shart.
My cheap old lady ass found a free fix for the grays… so I went and stole every brown marker in the house. Shameless. Absolutely shameless.
I must be getting loony in my old age.
You wouldn't sniff a stranger's butt to see who pooped their pants.... so you probably shouldn't do these other parental things to strangers, either. holdinholden.com/2017/12/weir…
Weird Things you do for your kids but not Strangers goo.gl/fb/oVuwvG
Tis the season! pic.twitter.com/5VgMLnt22E
I am weak pic.twitter.com/LYdRQ6EZcC
You know that feeling when you don't chew a chip all the way and it cuts you all the way down and you swear it's gonna kill you, but you go ahead have another right after? That's what it's like when you decide to have another kid.