I had a fairly rude awakening at the end of last month, when my uncle died. It hit me that I am, right now, the age he was when I was born. Wigged me out pretty good.
I've yet to hit the age my mom was when she had me; she was 33, which is just a little on the steep side for childbearing. I imagine that will be a tough year, rather than 30 being hard.
Already, though, I'm old enough for my sister, who's older than me, to remember our mom at my age, which is distinctly weird.
I might fail utterly at aging with grace, you can never say, but I plan on handling it. I quit thinking of myself as a "girl" a while back, and I'm perfectly comfortable calling mysef a woman now. Just one of the past couple of years' few unexpected gifts, I guess. Yeah, it's weird to think about the "half over" thing, but it's not the same as "half done." I'm not ever going to feel "finished." I hope to god I never become one of those living dead old people who just suck and mutter around, who lose all their mental dexterity, all their snap and fire. You know the ones I mean. They're only waiting to die.
Don't worry about not aging with Grace -- we'll probably age at the same one-number-per-year rate. ;P
And I've met countless people like that, old and young. I've stopped calling them old. I just refer to them as the walking dead -- they're waiting to die. (Oh, how I wish I could turn them into cool zombies!)
I'd settle for more hours in the night, you know? Part of the problem, certainly, is that I need a new bed. Unfortunately I'm also a very light sleeper, living in the heart of the city, with roommates, one of whom thinks that stomping up and down stairs at 3am is a GOOD idea. Grr.
I'm almost 35 and I'm already getting the grey hairs. Not that I mind. As a guy, I'll take a full head of grey rather than a head with bald patches, and apparently I don't have the genes for "male pattern baldness." (If I did, I'd probably shave my head clean rather than deal with the wispy fringe. But I'm vain that way.)
Dunno about the "half done" thing. Part of me feels as though I've already contributed everything I'm meant to, and that's awfully depressing. Once my teenagers become adults, my contribution to posterity is over, so, what next? That's the puzzler I'm chewing on now.
I think grey looks good on men and women both, but I'm with you on the baldness. I'd shave if I were a man, because totally bald looks cooler than spotty. Unless you're getting it coming up from the sides in front, like the hellacious Dracula widow's peak, in which case there are ALL KINDS of coooooool options for hairstyles
( ... )
Heh. Part of the "good time" will be having my money back. Losing 40% of my take-home pay to child support isn't fun. And, because I'm a Way Cool Dad, I tend to spoil them with part of what little free money I have left over. (I also keep a close eye on them, don't let them get away with stupid stunts, and hug them often. Oh, and we play Unreal Tournament and Scorched Earth 3D together, frequently.)
Five more years. Then we'll see how "life-changing" it will be to hit 40 and stop paying child support all in one go.
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I've yet to hit the age my mom was when she had me; she was 33, which is just a little on the steep side for childbearing. I imagine that will be a tough year, rather than 30 being hard.
Already, though, I'm old enough for my sister, who's older than me, to remember our mom at my age, which is distinctly weird.
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I'm sorry! Aieee!
Perils of the flip side, and having a mom who had you young, I suppose. It'd have a lot of pluses, but, damn, that would be odd.
*thinks*
Okay. That's just fucking bizarre. My teenage nephew is almost the age his mom was when she had him.
I'm going to derail this train of thought and think about monster movies, horses, and naked Steven Strait for a while.
*staggers off, clutching head and humming*
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My maternal grandmother died of cancer at 59.
My mother died of a heart attack at 49.
I'll be 39 in a little over 2 months. I do what I can to take care of myself, but the possibilities cross my mind from time to time, y'know?
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59 and 49 are way too young to go. I'm so sorry.
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Don't worry about not aging with Grace -- we'll probably age at the same one-number-per-year rate. ;P
And I've met countless people like that, old and young. I've stopped calling them old. I just refer to them as the walking dead -- they're waiting to die. (Oh, how I wish I could turn them into cool zombies!)
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YES thank you. They are NOT COOL ZOMBIES!
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I'm almost 35 and I'm already getting the grey hairs. Not that I mind. As a guy, I'll take a full head of grey rather than a head with bald patches, and apparently I don't have the genes for "male pattern baldness." (If I did, I'd probably shave my head clean rather than deal with the wispy fringe. But I'm vain that way.)
Dunno about the "half done" thing. Part of me feels as though I've already contributed everything I'm meant to, and that's awfully depressing. Once my teenagers become adults, my contribution to posterity is over, so, what next? That's the puzzler I'm chewing on now.
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Five more years. Then we'll see how "life-changing" it will be to hit 40 and stop paying child support all in one go.
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