My birthday is coming up next month and I will turn 41. FORTY. ONE. It's not like it's that high of a number, but if I was a celebrity this is about the time I would have to start considering dog food commercials instead of movie deals just to pay the rent. So, you can imagine how relieved I am not to be famous. It goes to show, really, that being mediocre in all things is a pretty good gig. This way if someone called me up to do a dog food commercial I'd jump on my blog and be like, "YOU GUYS! Watch Channel 9 and look for the ad with the backlit, middle-aged woman in the meadow getting mauled by a golden retriever - THAT'S ME!!" This way it's a celebration instead of a walk of shame, and at the end of the day I get to come home and sleep with an accountant who golfs on Fridays and be totally happy with that.
I'll tell you what else I can be happy about when it comes to getting older is that I'm discovering how many strong opinions I have, and how I care less and less about whether people like them or not. I think this is why old people have a reputation for being so crotchety, because they don't give a flying fig (digression: I have no idea where the phrase "flying fig" originated, but if I had to guess I'd probably say a rest home food fight is a decent possibility) what you think. They don't care if you're their friend as long as you bring them their pudding on time and keep their TV on "All My Children". It's where I'm headed, I can feel it.
A few days ago I ran into a skinny friend at the store who had just finished a marathon over the weekend in THREE HOURS. I asked her about it and was all prepared to congratulate and pat her on the back and say all kinds of nice things when she began to lament her time. But that's not even the point where I got mad, because I understand the difference between myself and an elite runner. (Elite runner: "I didn't average a 5 minute mile" Me: "I got to the finish line before they turned off the lights!") It was when she launched into her dissertation about being fat that I completely lost my mind. This girl needs to lose weight the way Carson Kressley needs to shed a little of his masculinity. I looked her in the eye, smiled, and said, "I'm sorry, this conversation is officially over", and walked away. Cory's worried that I was too rude, but I'm at a point in my life where I refuse to tolerate that kind of utter nonsense. I mean, if you were standing in a store talking to Martha Stewart and she said, "If I could just get a little more creative".... See what I mean?
AND ANOTHER THING.
I'm also starting to get grouchy already about winter waiting for me just around the corner. Because around here, "Winter" should be spelled "WINDter". Wind in the summer can be kinda nice, but wind in the winter is like nature's way of saying, "I've never liked you very much." Seriously, it gets so blustery around here that Chicago starts calling to see how I'm holding up. I'm not ready. One time last year when I was running around the neighborhood it was so cold and windy that I stopped dead in my tracks, raised my fists into the air and yelled, "STOOOOP IIIT!!!" It yelled back at me, froze my snot and told me to run wee wee wee all the way home if I was going to be such a baby about it. The wind - it mocks me. As do the neighbors who may have witnessed this event.
So yes, soon I won't just be 40, I'll be "in my forties". I've decided to celebrate by complaining without apology all year long. Cory is super excited. (p.s. Buy me something really nice.)
23 comments:
This was a great read this morning. That sounds so cliche, but it really was!
I totally see myself headed in the direction you are going. I'm not that far behind. THANKS for paving the way!
Try 42 sista!
OK! You are offically my favorite person in the world! Seriously!
I LOVE crotchety!
Don't say you are sorry at all.
I'm 53 (that's such an eff word) and I wonder if I can get away with that....oh wait, maybe I do.
You are my hero!
41 isn't scary at all. It's pretty much like yesterday.
Uh. HUh!
Oh man, this is one of my favorite posts ever. Love the new attitude from your 4th decade...
I know we've never met, but I'll be honest that every time I read your blog I wish we were best friends. Thank you for making me laugh. :)
"I'm sorry, this conversation is officially over," with a smile. I am SO stealing that line from you!
Haha!! I LOVE that you just walked away from that lady!
Awesome. Where were you to give us all this freeing insight when WE just entered that decade? Dang, have wasted a couple of years - better get on it!
I'm interested in this "flying fig" issue. Without googling, my guess is that "fig" is replacing a nastier F word. But I like your explanation better...
I think you should celebrate your 41st by writing 41 posts in the run up to your birthday. I want more Kristy blogging.
It is totally amazing the way you feel when you are in your forties - you just don't worry as much about what other people think of you. At least I don't.
I'm with Chrissy, I just want to be your friend. But even if we lived in the same state I don't think it would work out... I'm still in my twenties and I still care about what other people think. :) But seriously, I don't think I could ever tell somebody that but GOOD. FOR. YOU. Afterall, we all know that she was just trying to get attention and you didn't give it to her. Go Vern!
skinny people that talk about fat just KILL me. Good for you, I say.
The wind where I live (good ole Gallup, NM) blows constantly from October to May. It is awwwffffuuuulll. The other day I was talking on the phone with my sister and she's like, "Are you outside? What's with the wind?" I hadn't even noticed it was blowing and she could barely hear me. That's how bad it gets here. Steady winds of 50 mph with gusts up to 80 EVERY SINGLE DAY. Kill me now. High today? 48 degrees.
Happy birthday.
You need to go on a big girls' trip! Now that I am sliding so fast toward forty that my the rubber is coming off the bottom of my shoes I've decided to celebrate. I'm going to go with my g-friends to NYC or someplace close and have a long, happy foodfest.
Oh come one, 41's not that bad, I've found that after 40 I started forgetting how old I was anyway (sounds funny huh?, sadly I'm not joking. Have a great day!
I'm thinking we are going to have a GOOOOOD time in the old folks home together. And the first time anyone tries to make me eat a fig? You better believe it will go flying!
You crack me up! Being 42 and I guess your "elder" I am jealous that you said what I would love to have said! That being said... I love being in my 40's - it is very liberating.
PS They just took All My Children off the air and I am still in mourning!!! :(
Luckily you can be a famous (and very funny) blogger at any age, even into the dreaded 40's... I'm about to be 45, and I've decided it's whatever... I've decided I'd rather be older than younger anyway (I just wish I didn't sag so much)
And just because I know you care, we get our wind around here in the summer (between May and Aug.) I say enjoy it in the winter knowing you can have a BBQ in the summer - of which we certainly are not able...
You're such a whiner and a wusss...but I love you anyway. I am sad, however, that I am not going to see you in the next few weeks as I had wrongly assumed...well, you know what they say about "assume".
Speaking of flying figs, my husband likes to say "I'm going to go soak my figs" when he's heading for a hot bath that will last the next two hours..so, flying figs...not such a pretty picture.
And by the way, shut up already with your complaining about 41...seriously, do you know how old that makes me feel and how offensive I find you at this very moment? Oh, I forgot...you don't know how old I am, do you? You thought I was right around your age, right? Ha! You were wrong!! My DAUGHTER is right around your age!!
OK, I'm done being crotchety for now. (p.s. you got a shout out in my blog today!! Whiner!)
We lived in Newport, RI, for a year and the wind NEVER stopped. I thought I would go insane. I also have a distinct memory of a group picnic where the tops of our hamburger buns kept blowing away. I was very glad to return inland.
Came here by way of Sue...
I just read this, so first off, Happy Belated Birthday! Second thing is, you don't get to rag on being 41 and not let someone skinny complain about being fat. At 41 you are still just a baby. Now I on the other hand, just turned 57, so I definitely get to cry about that. However, if I'd been you, and that skinny, marathon running friend was going on about being fat, I think my natural inclination would also be to tell her, this conversation is officially over. Now see! It's not so bad getting older. You can totally get away with way more stuff and people will just shake their head and say, "Well look at her, she's so old she just doesn't give a flying fig." Also, were you not raised in San Diego? Yup, that's what I thought. All your problems involving winter and wind stem from the fact that you left your homeland. My suggestion is that you come back. It's the only cure.
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