The first minutes of Cougartown's pilot (horrible TV show title, if you ask me, as horrible as my post title) included Jules (Courteney Cox) inspecting her naked body in front of the mirror for signs of aging. I was laughing initially, but when she started squeezing her 40 year old belly I realized I spend five minutes in front of my mirror everyday doing the same thing. I actually had a pretty decent midsection during the mid-2000s (the sole product of 2005's gym days when I actually worked out and refrained from seducing gymbunnies at the locker room), but it has gotten out of shape over the years. I can't even get myself to post an after shot to go with the photo I posted above. Anyway, I tuned out the rest of the pilot, and started wondering how it feels like to be forty.
Sadly I can't predict my own future, but at least I can tell you the things I'm planning to exclude from it. For starters, this guy ain't getting married. Na-ah. I was hoping to have a kid, though it's a little tricky to execute - it includes a drunk girl and a turkey baster. Oh, and come to think of it, something to blackmail her for the entire duration of her pregnancy.
Also, I realized I am not a firm believer of a "life partner." I mean, if someone comes along then I might go for it, but I've been too jaded (this is also why I rarely reblogged those wordarts) to even try to date someone seriously. It's kind of preparing for the worst, although I don't find eternal singlehood awful at all - I mean that's what urban family is for. Just last week, a kitten chased me for a full block, and when I stopped walking (fearing I might step on him - or her, for some reason little girls tend to miss the gay vibe, who says kittens are exempted from faulty gaydars) he proceeds to rub his face against my shoe. Plus, an entire family of cats camp out on our doorstep every night, and I'm the only single resident in our house. Those are probably signs, right?
You might think I'm crazy for worrying about how my forties will turn out when I'm only 26, but I already spent most of my life not worrying about things. Last night on our drive back from a family reunion, my sister and her husband were arguing about how some dreams are unattainable and that we should all start being realistic. I kind of agreed with my sister's Don't-Stop-Believing attitude, but I didn't want to butt in so I just closed my eyes and pretended I was asleep. I'm a big dreamer just like my sister, and I feel like I need to rally for the next few years to make up for all the lost years I kept telling myself I'm finding out who I am when in reality I'm just too lazy to move forward.
The world spins madly on.
This is a very well-written post, Claren. Interesting thoughts you have here. :) *hug* Carry on, soldier.
ReplyDelete@Joe were you referring to the drunk girl and turkey baster idea LOL *HUG*
ReplyDeleteI'm 44 years old, Baby T. It's different viewing things from here.
ReplyDeletelol @ turkey baster. they say everyone wants kids at some point. idk i just don't see it for myself. maybe with an extra long turky baster, i'd give it a shot.
ReplyDeleteas for cats, i love them and all but my own pack of kitties remind me that every day i'm turning more and more into the crazy cat lady we always see on tv. and i'm no halle berry or michelle pfeiffer. there's no way i'm rocking all that leather.
if it makes you feel any better, the future freaks me out too.
@mcvie: I wish I'd be less scared about it. That's the thing, I admire you 'cause you seem to be handling it so well.
ReplyDelete@ʎonqʎʇıɔ LOL I love cats too, but ours is suplado. He's just malambing when he's about to steal food from the kitchen.
ReplyDeleteI consulted my crystal balls. You'll be a catlady(catlord?) when you turn 40.
ReplyDelete