The “F” Word…

Well hasn’t this just been tons of frikkin’ fun….not only is it Monday, but I was forced, YES FORCED, Nerf gun to my head forced, to flip that calendar page on my fridge today. To March. Which suddenly makes it all very real. Impossible to shove it down in to those deep, dark recesses of my mind with all my other demons for even one more day. Those of you who know me likely know what I’m alluding to…those that don’t, may recall my dancing around an upcoming event in previous posts, one that I was NOT looking forward to. And now that the calendar is officially screaming MARCH at me, (so loudly that I want to rip it off my fridge, tear it to shreds, douse it in lighter fluid, & watch it burn, baby, burn!), I can no longer avoid facing the painful & impending arrival of this dreaded occasion….my 40^th birthday. THIS month. NOT next month, not a year from now, but a mere 17 days away. Holy crap. When the heck did I become middle aged?

I Blame My Kids…

Now, obviously I have known for forty years that this day was coming…& for the last year or so, I have found various ways of coping with the reality of being in my forties. Obviously denial topped the list, & for the most part, that worked well…but that damn calendar has just removed that option for me. Another way I have used to cope was to refer to myself as being 40, quite often, figuring that way I’d have my head wrapped around it well before it actually happened & it wouldn’t be so likely to jump up & whack me over the head with my son’s sludgehammer once I actually WAS 40. Turns out, that wasn’t such a bad idea at all. Especially when I have The One I Butt Heads With around. Unlike the other two, (you know, the LIPPY ones who enjoy telling me I’m older than dirt!), SHE giggles at me & tells me I am NOT 40, I look like a teenager…though sometimes she gives me a complex with that line…what exactly is she trying to say about my outfit or hairstyle when she says this??!! Sometimes I go & change clothes when she throws it at me. Yes, really. However, despite the fact that I seemingly DRESS like a frikkin’ teeny bopper, gone are the days when I get ID’ed for booze, though I prefer to tell myself that’s due to the motley crew of rug rats dragging behind me. And over the last few years, gone too are the days when I hear, “You don’t look that old!”, thanks to the eye twitch, the missing clumps of hair, the ice pick sticking out of my brain, & once again, the frikkin’ rug rats that seem to follow me wherever I go….the ones that GAVE me the eye twitch, make me pull my hair out, & hammer that ice pick in just a little bit further every day!

Double Standards…

So, I’ll admit, I have mixed feelings about this birthday. It hasn’t been weighing too heavily on me, but as it creeps closer & closer, it certainly has crossed my mind a little more often. But it’s not the turning 40 so much…let’s face it, it’s just one more day. I’m not going to wake up in the morning & suddenly be “older than dirt”…I may LOOK like dirt if I decide to celebrate it the same way I celebrated, say, my 19th birthday, which I may do if I decide I really don’t want to remember turning 40. But ultimately, I’m comfortable with who I am, regardless of the date on the calendar. It’s more the stigma attached to it, for women. When men turn 40, we joke & tease, all that “Over The Hill” stuff, & 40 everywhere. With women, we avoid the number all together, we joke about them turning 29 again, or counting backwards now. But as it rapidly approaches, & I finally face it head on, I think I know the real answer to coping with it….I will simply make Forty Fabulous. If anyone can do that, it’s me! And anyone who decides to discount me as “old” now that I’m 40 will be served a nice piece of birthday cake with my picture on it…so they can bite me….because I will always be FABULOUS!

 Signed,

The Mayor!

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Tagged as: "F" word, Birthday, fabulous, forty, funny, head, Nerf gun, old, over the hill, women