Almost two weeks ago (Sept. 6) I turned 42. Forty-fucking-two! Nowhere in my mind am I 42. My brain still basically operates as an immature 25-year old. Which is fine by me. But, dayam! 42!!! I remember my mom turning 40! I remember thinking of others in their 40's as older, richer, wiser and, well, older. And here I am, older. Not so much richer and wiser. But, older. Even if I don't really notice it until I spot my reflection or hear/feel my aches and creaks.
*SIGH*
Thursday, September 18, 2008
42
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4 kind commenters:
I know exactly what you mena dude. In May, I turned 46.
Best wishes,
Skeeter
I totally get this. I'm younger than you but I still am older than I think I am in my head. When we lived in our apartment between our two houses, I made friends with the couple across the hall. I asked my husband how old he thought they were, and he said around 18 or 20. So I said that they were about our age. My husband looked at me funny and remined me I was like 28 or something at the time, which actually isn't the same as kids who are 20. How did that happen? When did I get "old" and why am I not all settled/mature like I thought my parents were at this age? I think it is all an illusion.
Oh AND Happy Birthday a little late.
Thanks Skeeter!
Right R-girl. And I still think I'm kinda with it and hip and all that, but then realize that I wear Levi's jeans (coolest jeans ever) yet....no YOUNG people wear regular Levi's do they? Do you think they look at me funny like I do when I see some old timer in double knit polyester plaid? Probably, huh? :(
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