Sunday, September 14, 2008

Fessing up...

All of the "ist" groups that I could be associated with, I' m proud to say that I would consider myself to be a member of only one. Mostly this is a good thing, as there aren't too many ists groups that come to my mind that have positive values. For example, I do not subscribe to the points of view of the following:
*racists
*sexists
*antagonists, well, this one may be debatable
*realists, in my opinion, this is not such a good group, at least for me.
*idealists; I used to be one, but then I grew up, as most of the members of this ist do
*apologists; I only rarely say I'm sorry, as I'm hardly ever wrong

Of course, there are some good "ist" groups, too. Sadly, I do not belong to those either.

I'd love to be a philanthropist, but I just don't have the money.
Once, in college, I thought for a while about being anthropologist, but then there was all that digging.
Also thought of being a sociologist; but they don't make any money. Good thing I decided to major in philosophy.
I have seen some psychologists and some psychiatrists. I'm not sure that they are good "ists". They sort of waiver between the two groups; hanging in the balance, in my mind. No, on second thought, psychologists are in the bad ists group cause all they can do is talk; and bill you 200. an hour. I talk and no pays me. Psychiatrists, on the other hand, are in the good ist group, as they can prescribe medication. Note, I am also not a scientologist. Sorry Tom Cruise. I liked you in Jerry Maguire, but not nearly as much as I like xanax.

There are two ists groups to which I think I do belong;

I think I am a feminist, although others may disagree. My husband often tells me that I am not. I reply, "well who is doing the dishes?" right before I put his laundry away.

The ist that I know I am, however, is a bad ist. I wish I weren't. I wish somehow I could take it back, erase it from my mind, separate the part of my brain that clings to the fact that I hate getting old; and thus I am an AGEIST. There, I said it. I don't feel better.

You see, today, I turn thirty four. 34. I am leaving my early thirties and entering my mid thirties. It is not place that I want to go. I am not happy here. I don't like the idea of wrinkle cream or doctor's visits to check and see if I have any of the 200+billion diseases that old people get. I don't like the idea of not being hip; or being untrustworthy; or having to grow up and be responsible. I like being the younger generation, the kid, the young one. Maybe its because I am the baby of the family. I don't know.

For the past several weeks, in anticipation of this day, I have been trying to mentally prepare myself. Mostly at night, I would have talks with myself, not out loud, I'm NOT that old YET. I would try to soothe myself.

If I live until age 90(ha!), I'm a good ten years from middle age. Not such a soothing thought. Next.

Thirty four is still relatively young. I am young. I have six years until I am forty. A little better, but still depressing.

Really young looking people are forty and older. Look at Brad Pitt. Oh yeah, he's a man and a Hollywood actor. Does not apply to me.

That vice presidential candidate chick is 42; a real person; and she has five kids. Maybe there is hope for me.

I saw on the news this morning that a new type of exercise is sweeping the older generation. Cane fu. Avg age range, 60. I'm not even close to that age; so I' m REALLY not that OLD.

Forty is supposed to be the new twenty; so in all actuality, I'm only turning fourteen today.

You know what, on my thirty fourth birthday, I actually want to be labeled a teenage mom. All of the sudden, it feels good. With age does come wisdom. So maybe instead of being depressed I should look forward to turning forty, I mean twenty.

Maybe in six years. Right now, I' m still trying to accept fourteen.

5 comments:

Ann(ie) said...

I hear ya. I'm turning 37 next month....feh. But, the sound of 17 sounds much better!!!!

Happy Happy BDAY!

Anonymous said...

Happy Birthday!

Oh, and I turned 34 earlier this year. I would say that it sucked, except that I was too busy being shocked that my son was now just over a year old to pay attention to my own birthday, and I keep mistakenly telling people that I'm still 33. Or maybe that is my subconscious speaking? Whatever.

I don't think it even truly hit the Hubby and I that he turned 45 at the end of last year, as we were too freaked out that the boy child was about to be 1. And I keep telling people he turns 45 this year. Again my subconscious, or did this motherhood thing make me forget a year?

But this is how I ramble, so happy birthday to you and welcome to the mid-30s!

Amy said...

Happy Birthday. Now, I'm 39 and I don't care. I don't know why that is, I guess considering the alternative getting older is good.
I did meet this really drunk guy the other night who said he doesn't believe in age, just revolutions around the sun and then a recited a poem he made up, so come on, things could be worse, you could be him and still probably slightly hungover. :)
Have a great day!

Laurie of the Seven Stories said...

I like his theory Amy. But I do not like hangovers. You are definitely right, though, about the alternative...

Lora said...

I hear you on this. I'm 32 (but I tell people I'm 35 because I look AWESOME for 35!!) and I'm feeling 42 lately. My skin is starting to get icky, and my belly is softer than it was after I delivered my son. I have gross vericose veins and my hair isn't grey yet, just wirey.

We need to come up with a better plan.