The following is result of Operation Blog Recovery (Of what I could retrieve): The following content is collected from a platform that is no longer operational. Gaps and spaces in the formatted text could be the result of broken and/or expired emoticons, links or web-hosted pictures. You can be assured that the opinions and thoughts expressed are from the original writing. Hell, I’m not even going to correct spelling or grammar. Enjoy! Or not.
Originally posted on Tue 10/28/2008, 10:59 PM
Current mood: validated
Category: Life
You probably knew it was coming. The last entry leads me to express some personal concerns related TO the dreaded Age issue. When I was 18, I remember thinking that 30 would be damn near over the hill. Remember that TV show 30 Something? It was a great show but to me, that show made The 30s look really old and hopeless. It suggested that being married, having young children and being relatively 'settled' was the logical and expected path for someone in their 30s. It was. I suppose there was a time in which I too believed that I had be married by 23, have 2.5 kids by 26 and that I should be winding down and waiting for retirement by 35. And 40?! Hell, 40 meant starting to research clean retirement homes that didn't wreak of piss! When you really examine those ridiculous and grossly out-dated social expectations, they are as absurd as believing that there was ever a majority of people that lived as The Cleavers did. Ah, The Cleavers; "The Perfect Family Unit." Perfectly sterile, perfectly boring, perfectly unrealistic, perfectly stifling…you get the idea. At work, I'm one of the youngest on my team. My co-workers vary in age and ethnicity but there isn't any one of them that you would immediately guess their age. That old saying "Black don't crack" is still true but it can't just be designated for only Black folks anymore. It's safe to state that the gift of a youthful appearance and lifestyle crosses all cultural and ethnic backgrounds. The wonderful attributes of the "New Millennium" chronological age, can't seriously be compared to the chronological age of yesteryear. Age just isn't the same animal anymore, no matter how you try to dissect it. There are even those that actually seem to improve drastically with age, I include myself in that fold by the way. You see it everyday. There are plenty of Hollywood's elite that have managed to turn back, or improve with, time. Sure, Hollywood stars have the financial resources to hold on to their youthful look. And I'm not just talking about plastic surgery either. I would imagine not having to worry about making your bills, would automatically eliminate more than a few facial wrinkles. In the most innocent and non-malicious of ways, I'm often told that I don't look my age (by men & women). Okay, I know that's intended to be a compliment but I'm always tempted to reply with the rhetorical question; What's a happy, healthy and free-spirited 37 year old woman supposed to look like? I'm all of those things and even I don't know. But who does? Who could? In my case specifically, I have great genes and I don't really have many of the real world stresses that most women (and men) my age are plagued with. (I mean 'plagued' in the nicest of ways). I suppose lifestyle also has a lot to do with looking and being what people consider "youthful". I mean, living dirty can definitely negatively impact your appearance. And let me be clear here, negative doesn't always equal looking older. I happen to love the look of gray hair and a few well placed facial character lines, on men and women. The last time I went back home, for my cousin's wedding, I prayed that I wouldn't run into anybody from high school. Not because high school was a bad experience or anything, it's just that I detest idle chit-chat. (I find it incredibly annoying). Anyhow, I had a little too much fun at the reception and I didn't pack anything medicinally appropriate for the morning after. So very early the next morning, I went to the store to find something to quell my wicked hangover and upset stomach. (I looked a holy hot mess too). It was so early that there were probably a total of 10 people (including the checkers) in a Super Wal-Mart size store. But with my luck, 1 of the 10 just happened to be someone I went to high school with. He politely stopped me and said; "Excuse me, didn't you used to go to (insert Chauny's high school here)?" He even remembered my name. He lived in my neighborhood but we hung out in different crowds. Actually, I didn't have much of a crowd, except for the stray, misunderstood Goths, New Wavers and Punk Rockers that attended our 'Good Ole Boy Suthern Hi Skool'. The pleasantly odd ones often gravitated toward me then, just ask Sis. Anyway, he asks me if I remembered him. I looked at him a little harder and I replied that I did. I couldn't recall his name but I remembered he had a brother. He goes on to tell me that I look the same (I think I look better) and that he'd seen my dad a few days before at our childhood home and that he (my daddy) didn't look any different than he did when we were in junior high or high school. As nice as he was, I thought to myself, he could pass for my dad! I don't think anybody would disagree that he probably looked a good 15 to 20 years older than me but not in a good way. And I doubt that it had anything to do with his actual age but most likely, his lifestyle. I'm not trying to falsely pump myself up by bluntly professing, "I'm getting better with age." I honestly believe that with all my heart and soul. That's why when I come across old pictures now, I quickly scan and post them (to the "Old School Chauny" photo album). In my biased opinion, I not only believe I look better (not younger) than I did then, but I feel better too. Anybody that's known me for a really long time, also knows that I certainly behave a lot better now. I'm not nearly as ultra-sensitive, unforgiving or violent as I used to be (with the exception of that isolated bar brawl a few months ago). For a while there, I made The Bad Girls Club look like virtuous angels selling Girl Scout cookies in Pleasantville (I was at my worst in junior high though). I used to have a super short fuse when provoked and it didn't take much to provoke me either. I'm not exaggerating when I say that my temper was once the stuff of legends. I had no fear of punching or getting punched (I still don't). *As an aside, I must say that a violent history like mine can also build character, if you learn from it. In my case, it led to me being stronger in a lot of nonphysical ways. I find that a person that isn't afraid to be punched, will most likely not be afraid of much else (with the exception of guys that hit women-those are the weakest of our species). But that violence can build strong character lesson doesn't always have to be learned that way, it just was in my case. These days however, it would take a great deal more for me to resort to mutual bloody battle combat (probably only in defense of myself or someone I love). Over time though, I learned that not everything deserves that kind of intense energy and attention. In fact, most things don't. That realization just came from good old fashioned maturity. Personally, I don't see much of a distinction in chronological age but great distinction in one's maturity level, most notably in my affective life. In the last 3 years or so, I've 'kicked it' with A 50 year old guy that had the maturity level you'd expect from a 24 year old guy, a 24 year old guy that had the maturity level you'd expect from a 50 year old guy and a 32 year old guy that had the maturity level you'd expect from a from a 2 year old toddler. I don't make or live by many rules in my personal, social or intimate relationships. My motto is; If it feels right, do it! With time, I know I've become a better person and the best woman I can be right now, that is until I add a few more years yet…then, I'll be even better. Just watch & see. If you're intelligent, having a few more years in the pot makes you an asset60 , not a liability. Let's face it, age just ain't what it used to be and that's a very good thing. It's a very exciting time to be living in this world now. But apart from all the wonderful lessons I've learned, I'm most grateful that just when I reached the ripe, "old" age of 35…60 became the new 40.
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