I was about to make a left on Temple when Richard Marx came on. “Damn Angelia, it’s been too long,” I said out loud turning up the volume as the light turned yellow, then red, and I pulled to a stop. For a second it was 1987, summer, and I could feel a warm breeze on my face. Then a skateboard hit the pavement snapping me out of it and two guys in their 20’s zoomed in front of my car to cross the street. I looked at them longingly, I bet their knees don’t ache. I wonder if they know who Richard Marx is. Or Sting. Do they know who Sting is? I bet he’s just some guy on a Police t-shirt to them.
The light turned green and I zipped across the intersection, turning my car toward home. My mind quiet for just a moment.
When I pulled in the driveway I kept the song on blast, wailing along at the top of my lungs until it finished. Then I shut the car off and stared straight ahead.
“This is really happening,” I thought, “I’m getting old.”
I tried Snapchat over the weekend and to be completely honest have no idea what the purpose of it is. Why can’t I find anybody on there? What’s the difference between a story and a picture? How do you share it? Should this be taking 20 minutes? I need a nap.
Then it hits me, I’m my mother back in ’83 trying to figure out the VCR.
It IS happening. Even though I’ve always known it would, I can’t believe it actually is.
I’m having a difficult time dressing my body type, something I’ve never struggled with before. <Yep, it’s happening.> Everything looks, so, like everything I’ve worn before. Wait. That’s because I have worn it before – in the 70’s, 80’s and 90’s. So THIS is what my mother was talking about all those times she said, “I used to wear one just like that and grandma would do my hair in such and such a way…,” her voice trailing off as she stared wistfully across the room.
I don’t want to wear Talbot’s.
No offense Talbot’s, I just don’t want to wear you.
After my aunt died in January my hair turned silver. I mean sil-ver. As in more silver than brunette.
Huh. This is a real thing, after all.
We still don’t have chairs around the kitchen table in our new place because every chair I’m drawn to looks like something I had as a kid and it is freaking me right out. Is this what aging is? Everything comes full circle?
I think I had a hot flash the other day. Or maybe it was anxiety. Because this is all very anxiety inducing you know. <—Consider this is a heads up, all of you behind me in this game of life. Batten down the hatches. Gird your loins. Commence hydrating skin.
So I guess what I’m saying is, I’m in unchartered territory. As it turns out, who you are in your 30’s is just a mature version of who you were in your 20’s. You have this moment of feeling like you might have it all figured out. But then 40 hits and Nope.
Forty turns you on your head. To be precise, 41. Because when you turn 40 you have a year’s reprieve where nothing breaks down and you think, “Whew, I made it! Everything is still in place and I can carry on with my 30’s self.” But then one day the dewy glow on your skin disappears and you can hear your dad’s chuckle in your head every morning when you get out of bed and your knees crackle (you told him it’d never happen to you when he told you at 40 that he missed what it was like to be ache free in the morning) and you wonder why you weren’t happy with your beautiful original hair color while you still had it.
So to all you 35 -40 year olds: go back to brunette while you still can.
Consider this a love note from me to you.
And just for old times, here’s Richard. #shedatear
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I have no idea how I even got into my 50’s!! I still think it’s 1978 based on all the current styles, my memory and my love for all things bohemian anyway!! LOL!! I find myself doing more “Is this age appropriate” now when trying on clothes!! Darn it!!!
I can totally relate. Someone asked me how old I was the other day and I couldn’t remember. AHAHAHAHA!! Then when I could I was like, 35? Can I still get away with this? I mean how did this happen anyway?? Pass the old lady wedge heels. I’m about to make those a thing. With old Levi’s if I can ever find a pair that looks right. #pray
So just today I was talking to a few gfs about me potentially going blonde, in an effort to hide my sporadic, crazy, corse grays. I’m 36, btw. Wahhhhh.
Fantastic post. As usual.
Okay so secret with the grey? The woman who colors mine does highlights and then a dark tone over to avoid constantly dying the grey roots. It’s worth a try and especially if they’re not coming in TOO heavy. May the force be with you. This blows!
I’m with you on the IDGAF years part of it. I have really been thinking about that a lot lately. So much pressure OFF, pressure I didn’t even realize was there (if that makes sense). But at the same time, oh hell no will I just sit idly by and let the wrinkles set in. Uh-uh sister, I am preserving all the way. Pass the seaweed wraps and detox masks! I want a glow for as long as I can get one. Haha! And btw, you look great too! Just think of how much you would’ve missed out on in the BVIs if you’d been trying to snapchat. That shit is for the birds!
Hey, seaweed wraps and facials are relaxing, enjoy the ride! PS I am down with no Talbots. No Chicos either, please, LOL. My mom and all her friends LOVE that place.
OMG I forgot all about Chicos aka blouse kingdom. Haha!
…AND the Chicos my mom shops at is: right next door to a Talbots. Can’t say they don’t know their customer. Hahaha!!! PS Ann Taylor loft is right there as well for folks who are still transitioning from Gap but have not yet made it to Talbots/Chicos-land.
Well…I’m plenty far along into the 40s and so far, I’m just rolling with it. I’ve plenty of gray coming in, but I guess I am sort of relishing these IDGAF years for what they are. You can’t have experiences without the clock ticking by…and I don’t want to miss out on anything because I was too busy trying to figure out how to avoid wrinkles. So it is what it is. No one wants to get old but no one wants to die young is the saying, right? I already told my husband I’m going with the gray and the wrinkles…he’s doomed! LOL! You look great and isn’t it a relief not to need Snapchat?? 🙂
Well you know that I can relate to EVERYTHING FREAKING THING in this post! And Richard ~ oh my. My girlfriend and I went to see him in concert in the late 80’s and screamed like 13 yr old girls (we were probably 22) ~ still love him! Getting up without sound effects or an ache/pain (insert whatever here) is sadly a thing of the past. Man we had fun though ~ love this post girlie xo
Oh Richard, he was such a thing wasn’t he?? IDC he still is! You lucky duck for getting to see him live. I saw Corey Hart once and he shook his sweat all over me and I almost barfed. Not NEARLY the same 🙁 You’re right though, we had SO much fun back in the day. Wouldn’t trade it for anything!
Sadly, I can totally relate
It’s a real bitch, isn’t it? A suspended state of surreal while everything continues to slide down the hill. It seems like it was only yesterday we were driving down that street with the muffler dragging beneath my camaro…