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Fabulous at 40...or F$%k you, 40

I haven't really thought a whole lot about turning 40. I have a few more months to overthink the heck out of it anyway. And, while I haven't really stressed much about it, lately, it keeps getting thrown in my face. I've been reading and following a lot more bloggers who share a common link: They are all right about my age: 39. These lovely ladies are smart, witty, uproariously funny, sarcastic, and dealing with many of the same issues as I am. Not only are they the type of woman I aspire to be, but they are also the types of women I'd like to sit around with and drink wine.

So add to that the fact that one of my best friends is celebrating a milestone birthday in a few weeks. We celebrated our last milestone birthday shortly after we became friends. Now, we've been friends for more than 10 years, and are facing yet another one. Seems like 30 and 50 were sexier than 40 and 60, but time marches on. Back when I was younger and sexier, I set out some rules for myself about turning 40. Some hold true, a few seem silly in retrospect, and I'm sure I'll come up with dozens of dumber ones in the next few months.
  1. Have cute short hair cut after turning 40. Well, that is not going to happen. Like an idiot, I cut my hair off when I turned 30 thinking I would look smart, successful, blah blah blah. Who says you can't be or at least look like you are those things with long hair? Anyway, looking at pictures, I realize, I don't look good with short hair. However, since I often take out stress on my hair, I am counting on someone to remind me of this. It won't work, but I'll ask anyway. The last time I cut my hair off, my family literally formed a human chain in front of the door and begged me not to do it. I broke through--I was a champion Red Rover player--chopped off my hair, and cried for the next several days.
  2. No more babies after 40. Since I've all ready got one more than we planned, Brad and I have both taken permanent birth control precautions, and I've got my uterus on every prayer list in the country, God willing, this one should hold.
  3. Be one of those smoking hot, fabulous at 40 women. Well, in order to achieve that one, I will need to stop eating birthday cake for breakfast. And really, I don't care to be someone that men ogle, I really just don't want people to ask my smoking hot husband if I'm his mom. Because I will drop someone if that happens. And I don't want to be on the receiving end of those, "What's HE doing with HER looks?"
  4. Quit smoking. This is on every goal list I've ever made. I'd hoped never to start again after the last few quits, but here I am. That was kind of about number 3 too, unfortunately. Quitting smoking was really more about wrinkles than health. I know that is so superficial and vain, but I'm being honest. I was more afraid of looking old than actually getting a disease that could kill me. But quitting smoking was also about God. If you're addicted to something, that addiction becomes your god. So, my decision to quit had a lot to do with obedience. I didn't really feel I could truly submit myself to God's Will when I was always asking Him to wait until I finished my cigarette.
That's not really a lot of rules, but a few of the ones that have been knocking around in my head. I feel better having gotten them out of my head and into cyberspace. Plus, I've made room for more neurotic musings in my mind.

My girlfriend turns 60 in two weeks. She is fabulous. Even more fabulous now than she was at 50. So, I hope that at the very least I can follow her example and be a little more fabulous this decade than I was last. Since my early 30's were kind of a trainwreck of losing jobs and finding myself, I should be good. But who wants to settle for good?


  1. And so then, right in the middle of my sentence, Windows decided to update. I'm not saying that made me cranky or anything, just that I would rather it have done that on a morning when I hadn't also slept late, and spent 45 minutes hunting for the phone charger. Now, back to our original programming...(or as near to the original as I can remember it. You know how it is with lost sentences.)

    In a humorous little snippet of how perspective changes with time, when I read that I've known you since you were thirty, I thought, "I've known you since you were a baby!" Cracked myself up. It isn't that I don't know how old we were, just that I hadn't thought about it recently.

    Re: the hair ---- Someone who loves you should go soon to a thrift store, or maybe even a costume store, and get you a wig that you can impulsively alter instead. Or maybe forty just won't stress you out. You'll be stepping into MORE Magazine's target audience, which can be a lot of fun. Your kids are coming to a place where you have little snippets of down time to think and plan and reflect. You are writing more, and it makes me grin just to type that. You're really going to have a great time.

    Birthday cake for breakfast every day would necessitate some interesting things --- like partying a lot for one thing, but once in a while won't break the bank. Smoking hot is in the eyes I think, but not in the mascara. It's in how our fella sees himself reflected in our eyes --- our love for them. This little piece of insight revealed to me when Barry smiled at me real big one day, and I thought it was because I'd prettied up before I went to the office. Wasn't that at all, apparently.

    Smoking. Well, hell yeah, like everyone else who loves you, I vote for putting 'em down. God gets put on the back burner for all kinds of reasons --- morning coffee, favorite t.v. shows. It has been my experience that smoking gets an extra heaping of disapproval in some circles, and is an easy target. And sometimes, I think, a distraction: Let's talk about your smoking, and not about my backbiting. Each cigarette you skip is a triumph in health. Claim it that way. Please.

    Sixty is an odd number. Well, not odd in the usual sense. Odd in how I feel about getting there. I realized the other day that saying it out loud --- the puzzle from my end is wondering what the listener thinks that means. Whatever it is, I don't think it'll match what I think I've got going on. If "Younger Next Year," is to be believed, I have a lot of control over just how vibrant I will be over the next 20 years. The four different kinds of face cream might not make much difference in how I look, but some of the other "that's just part of getting older" issues really are optional.

    The book also stresses the importance of friends, reminding me once again of how lucky I am to have you. XO

  2. my fabulous fabulous fabulous friend. i love you :)


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