YEP, IT'S MY 39th BIRTHDAY
Miss-Miss: Let's play I-Spy! OK. I spy, wiff my little eye, somefing purple!
Me: Hmmmm, the pillow?
Miss-Miss: NO! The sunroom!
Me: OK. My turn. I spy, with my little eye, something pink.
Miss-Miss: My shirt! *Giggling* I spy, wiff my little eye, somefing gray!
Me: *Puzzled* Huh. OK. *Looking around.* The TV?
Miss-Miss: NO! Your hair!
Yeah, I'm getting older. As of this moment, I have entered the final year of my 30s. There are only 365 more days left to be as close to "Young and Hip" as I'll ever be. All too soon, I'll be knocking on the door marked "Old Fart."
Being on this cusp is weird. There's a constant inner monologue going on that I, at times, wish would shut the fuck up. Moments when my brain screams Run that extra mile, woman! It's good for you! and my knees and hips reply Oh, sure. Go right ahead, honey. But we'll make sure you pay for it all next week. My brain and body seem to be going their separate ways, constantly. Like, for example, my brain screams Oh! YEAH! Feel that rhythm! Dance, baby! and my ears scream Turn that crap down! Do you think the entire neighborhood wants to listen to that garbage? I swear, it's like I'm a psychic medium but the only spirit I'm channeling is my father. And finally, there are those moments of watching the neighborhood kids play kickball in our cul-de-sac, using our driveway as home plate, when I think Oh, looks like they're having a great time! and yet I find myself clamping my hand over my mouth because all it wants to shout is Get off my lawn you pesky, good-fer-nuthin' kids!
I don't get it, this dichotomy of getting old. My brain is convinced, absolutely, positively, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I'm 19*. But I know when others look at me, especially those who truly are 19, that I'm not. I see it in the mirror when I look at those gray hairs that so prominently stand out to Miss-Miss, and I feel it when I do run that extra mile.
I don't like it. But, I'm going to fight it, every damned step of the way. I will not age gracefully. I will age fighting.
So, happy birthday to me, dammit, and my ability to be 39 in body, but 19 in spirit!
* I would have to say that looking back at all of my ages, 19 was my favorite. I was out of the house, away from the parents, in college, had a bunch of friends, and was having the time of my life, all still with a happy view of the world. Yeah, 19 was the best.