TM Prompt #316: What were you doing ten years ago?
You know... this is a clever trick, this question.
It's trying to get me to say how old I am. Oh yes. I'm on to you, prompt! Don't you know you should never ask a lady her age?
Silly, really. What does it matter how old a woman is? But there it is - an expiration date stamped on your forehead wrinkles, maybe. I know it's ridiculous; it's a sexist double standard created by “a heteronormative patriarchy” as Jean-Paul would call it. And I know that. But...
My own mother would NEVER say aloud how old she was. I think one of the few times I saw her genuinely angry at my father was when he jokingly told her she “wasn't old... for a tree.” Ouch. Dad slept on the couch for that one.
I married very young, and I was widowed not long into my thirties. I am a single woman, and yet I feel no real pressure to date again. In a way I'm almost relieved that I'm supposedly retired from active sexual hunting - let the 20-something blondes have all the fellas. I'm in a unique position to focus on my career, although I dread the day when I'm taken aside and told I'm just too damn old to be running around in the Guardian suit. (I tell you right now - it had better be a safety concern when they do it, not an aesthetic one. I don't care how gross old lady butt is, that's not the point of having a superteam. ...No it ISN'T, twins.)
At any rate... all those clues are lovely, and I'm not ashamed to be a woman in the prime of her youth, and I don't much care for society's archaic attitudes... but you're still not getting my age out of me, prompt. Nice try.
It's trying to get me to say how old I am. Oh yes. I'm on to you, prompt! Don't you know you should never ask a lady her age?
Silly, really. What does it matter how old a woman is? But there it is - an expiration date stamped on your forehead wrinkles, maybe. I know it's ridiculous; it's a sexist double standard created by “a heteronormative patriarchy” as Jean-Paul would call it. And I know that. But...
My own mother would NEVER say aloud how old she was. I think one of the few times I saw her genuinely angry at my father was when he jokingly told her she “wasn't old... for a tree.” Ouch. Dad slept on the couch for that one.
I married very young, and I was widowed not long into my thirties. I am a single woman, and yet I feel no real pressure to date again. In a way I'm almost relieved that I'm supposedly retired from active sexual hunting - let the 20-something blondes have all the fellas. I'm in a unique position to focus on my career, although I dread the day when I'm taken aside and told I'm just too damn old to be running around in the Guardian suit. (I tell you right now - it had better be a safety concern when they do it, not an aesthetic one. I don't care how gross old lady butt is, that's not the point of having a superteam. ...No it ISN'T, twins.)
At any rate... all those clues are lovely, and I'm not ashamed to be a woman in the prime of her youth, and I don't much care for society's archaic attitudes... but you're still not getting my age out of me, prompt. Nice try.