Musings on getting old
Pink hair and striped socks aside, sometimes I really notice I'm getting older. Age is a real bitch, you know, about the time you sincerly appreciate youth, it's in your rearview mirror. Oh sure, I can still do everything I always loved doing before, but sometimes I'm a little slower at it. I can still have cake for breakfast, just...have to count a few calories. I can still go rockclimbing, I just need a couple extra breathers.
Also, I find myself saying things I never thought I'd say. "Mom, you have your pills, right?", "We should refinance, the interest rate dropped.", "It's time we started watching our cholestorol.". Seriously, I fight it, but being an adult stopped being new awhile ago. I'm not complaining, I hope anyway. It's really more of an observation.
Last year, I was kind of backstage during the mid-life crisis of my best friend's mother. Something she said stuck in my head. "I'm not ready to be old yet.". Well...neither am I. I just turned 33 this year. If I go by the age my father and grandparents died, this year is my mid-point. My life, half over. I don't feel half over. I kind of feel like I just got started. I've accomplished more in the last 5 years than I have the whole of my life. The last three years has even led me to this person I am now, positive, fun, calmer, patient. A person I like a damn sight more than who I was.
That leads me to wonder: When DO I get old? Oh, I don't mean that like I have any intention of hanging up my lolita dresses and otaku pins. I just wonder, when do I look back and realize it crept up on me? I see it even now in the little crows feet, the way the girls aren't high and tight, heck, I even wake up some mornings and my back just hurts. When do I go from aging punk princess to rockin' old lady? More worrisome, will I start to get embarrassed about it? Will I trade knee-high Converse for good, sensible, walking shoes? I hope not, or at least, I'd like to think I can have both. Getting older doesn't mean getting old. I hope I never forget that.
I'm not 19 anymore, but you know, I don't think I'd want to be. There's been a lot of growing between then and now, and I'd hate to lose it, even for the hot-ass body I used to have. Okay, so I wouldn't mind THAT back, sue me. At least, I've gotten to sit ringside at someone elses 19 and remember its ups and downs pretty vividly and offer some experience to someone, unlike myself, will hear some of it.
All in all, I'm willing to get older. That I have no choice about. It sure beats the alternative. However, getting OLD I will fight kicking and screaming
....and long live my stripey socks
Love,
The once and future, albeit chubbier, Punk Princess
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