Proof that I'm going to be the hip old lady on the block someday.
 

The kids, they just love me!

So I've been hanging out with a new guy pal, who works at a Barnes and Noble near where I live. It's totally a just friends scenario, and he's very sweet and complimentary and always polite. Most of his friendship base is comprised of other B&N employees, including his roommates. When I first went over to his place, and brought beer that no one but me drank, I actually thought, "Holy crap, are they even old enough to drink? Am I really that much older than them?" Turns out one guy was my age, and the girl (the prettiest girl in playland, or at least the prettiest Barnes and Noble employee ever) is about 25. Anyway, I felt like the old lady lush, sitting around their youthful circle trying to devour their youthful essences. I was the succubus at a very boring orgy.

Anyway, we've hung out a few times since, and last night we went bowling, which was fun, and I was a crappy bowler, but not nearly as crappy as I used to be. We played pinball. I looked at the teenagers to the left of us, and then at the old hardcore man bowlers to my right, and thought, "He's closer to the teenagers in age, and I'm closer to the old men....in....okay, I'm closer to the teenagers in age, as well, but in spirit? I'm with the old men. The old men, with the LARGEST, most muscular calves I have ever seen. Man could have been my grandpa sugar daddy any day. Holy cow, those calves. They were bulging, Brad Pitt in Troy calves. I was hoping he'd offer to show me a few bowling moves, as well, 'cause hot grandpa was knocking those pins down with grace and ease. More graceful than his partner, who would flutter like a little bird down the aisle, then stop, then fling the ball hard onto the smooth wooden surface where it proceeded to meander down the lane. He knocked the pins down, as well, but he looked very special ed while he was doing it.

After bowling and pinball, I washed my hands for a half an hour in the bathroom. Nothing makes my hands feel more like they're going to come down with a severe case of athlete's foot/warts/leprosy cocktail than a trip to the local bowling alley. Before I washed my hands, I ate a cookie. I could not believe myself, eating a cookie BEFORE washing my Bowling Alley Plague Hands.

After bowling, we had to Denny's, my restaurant nemesis. Well, former nemesis. I stick to coffee, hot chocolate, and fries, and I'm usually okay with Denny’s. Anything else, and it is usually stomach cramps and anal leakage for at least 24 hours. That’s a poop miscarriage, my friends.

He eats a Grand Slam and I eat fries and slurp down two chocolate milks, with two helpings of whipped cream. We talk about silly things, like life and love, and we talk about really important things, like our mutual love of Keanu Reeves and surfing bank robbers. When we talk about life and romance, he tells me that he wants to write down everything I say because I’m so smart. Apparently, I’ve really grown up and learned from my experiences.

Oh, boy, do I have HIM fooled. And I told him so. My God, if this guy is taking a page out of my Book of Life to help guide him through his life, I fear for his mortal soul. I felt a need to dramatically shift gears from “Older, wiser woman with a slightly bruised, but bubbly big heart” to “Battle weary slutbag walking the path of righteousness atop broken beer bottles and the slain corpses of her loved.” I’m not the Goddess of Wisdom, my new friend. I’m a Harpy from Hell!!!!!

And I’m just as confused and scared and stupid as I ever was. It’s my friggin’ default. I’m not an old soul in a fresh body. I’m a new soul trapped in a body aged before it’s time. Please, if you’re going to learn from me at all, learn to smell my bull**** and my fear, and find a better role model. I like this guy. He’s a great guy. Please, let him be better at being 29 than I am. He’s got 7 years to figure that out. He’s not even that much younger than me, really. Sheesh.

Ah, new friends. How easily they are fooled into thinking you’re someone supercoolspecial, like, holy COW, I can’t BELIEVE how truly awesome you are!!!!!

What trusting fools!

I have girlie-love right now. Turn around, you!

Or perhaps just a little insightful ;)

We should all grow up to be supercool succubi in sombody's eyes
:cool:

holy crap! did i sleep walk to a bowling alley?


i love old women:evil:

You left out the part where you totally make out in the backseat of his car.

Just kidding, of course.

You already know how I feel about your preoccupation with being old...you have got to kick that in the ass. :cool:

Oh, and...
Hehe. Maybe you should let him fool you for a bit. I know I continually need my guy (as well as my friends) to fool me into thinking I'm somewhat intelligent and interesting to be with.

As always, EH1812 hits it on the nose: the feeling that you're not quite who you might have led others to believe. A sense of fraud in one's own coolness, or intelligence; I feel it every day.

The one thing I've been trying to learn myself over these last few months, this last year, whatever, is that we're rarely the ugly, malformed people we see in the mirrors in our darkest moments. More often than not, we are more beautiful than we can ever recognize. I think that's the curse of the thinking person. To be so self-conscious that they bring themselves some form of misery, over-thinking the basics in life, as opposed to being a part of the now that they're in.

And trust me, Audra, you will most definitely be the hip old lady on the block someday. Just not today. And not for quite a while longer you beautiful, young thing, you.

LMFAO, Lickey!

Look. I AM the hip old lady on the block. So, shut up. ;)

I would mojo you, if I could. Heck, I would try to make mad passionate love to you if you were single and a lesbian, and I were a lesbian and not a failed hasbian. Oh, E. You do say the most perfect things. Lovely, lovely girl.

Come hang out with me while we're still preserved (mint, baby - MINT!) in our original, youthful packaging. And for the rest of our lives. We could be the next Golden Girls!

If you really want to be honest with the young gent, I think perhaps you need to tell him that you are a hyperosmiac harpy from hell. You know, full disclosure and all that. ;)

I feel for you, Eliza- you are in that uncomfortable place sort of in-between youth and dotage. Just remember, dear, the male of the species peaks at 17, while we women tend to take our time- 37 or so. So, chronologically your friend is seven years behind you, but biologically you are peers. In the sack, anyway....:D

AND, you're ALSO the crazy cat lady! You've got me beat by at least two critters.

Ah, NA, one minute you're the strange ,but endearing, hip old lady with a lot of cats.

The next minute you're the wimpering and frightened, down-on-the-floor with a broken hip old lady with a lot of cats who are suddenly out of food and looking at you lying there, all helpless, and trying to figure out what would be the most efficient way to strip your brittle bones of their meat. Their purrs, oh so kindly and sweet in the past, begin to sound threatening, "Purrrrrrrmeat. Meatpurrrrrrrrrrr."

And just like that, you give the term "food giver" an entirely different meaning.

Jack is quite fat. I bet he'd be tasty!

EH, you're in your twenties. Cut the crap and just kiss the guy all ready.

No, no. I have no romantic interest in this guy, whatsoever. He's a sweet pumpkin dear boy, but my feelings towards him are almost sisterly. It's strictly platonic. He's not my Rob Wilco.

And I know I'm not old, Tref, but I do feel more aged and tired than my 29 years sometimes. Probably because I sit at a computer all day and get so little exercise. Tired, tired. However my body feels, though, I still feel very, very young. Too young, even. Haven't done enough. Haven't learned enough. But I'll be 100 and still feeling that way.

Then again, on those days - most days even - when I accept that the meaning of life really is 42, I feel just fine and dandy.

So, can it!

I say, do not be worried, dear EH, do not be worried.

And yes, let's go have fun with our minty fresh selves!

Ha! That's nothin. There is a man in my life that actually thinks that I control the sun. He begs me every night to make it come up. Beat that! Of course he is two...

Oh, and you are supercoolspecial.

Face it EH: you're old. Get used to it, get over it and get on with your life.

Done and done.

Very good. uh-huh. Very good indeed. Yes-yes. Good, yes.

I'm with the makin' out with him crowd. Suck some of the 7 years younger right out of him and put it in you - then you're the same age and can... well... you know.

Sometimes it's just too easy...

Thanks for the new sig line!

Remember: you're only as old as you look. or feel. or act. or dress.

Age is just a number that measures how much time we have spent not accomplishing things.

Then again, I think you're still just a kid...which makes me the tragically unhip, aging eccentric odd fellow on the block.

Oh Kevy.. I didn't mean *that*!!! You silly! I swear - men and their dirty dirty minds. ;)

What man wouldn't want to be some seven years younger? I mean, when you put it like that...

So, 29....40 (because of my lazy bones)...17...25.....and the median is....what? About 28-29? So, I really am 29, I guess. You know, it really IS all good. I'm just funnin' around. Normally I think I'm the GREATEST THING IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD...next to Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Captain von Trapp.

You are neither tragically un-anything or excessively odd, boss man!

Plus, you give me lots of cool ****.

WAIT! He's giving you lots of cool **** now? That wasn't part of the deal!!! ;)

Pshw, 7 years is for amateurs!

Try sucking the youngness out of a person 19 years your numerical junior for the real deal in age-swapping PonceDeLeon fountain drinkage. I tells ya I was 58 when I started consuming the Zapppop youth right out of him, and I won't stop till I am 29 again!

29 is young, young I tell you! If I hear someone else cry that 29 is old, I'm gonna wrap them in Depends and knock all their teeth out.

For the love of....I don't think I'm old. I don't think 40 is old. Or even 50 is old. Old is the new young, anyway. I just FEEL a wee bit tired. And I do feel older than this guy, who thinks of me as older, and makes reference to it. His eyes turned to saucers when I told him my age. I was so surprised. 7 years really isn't much of an age difference, but when I'm hanging out with him, I sometimes feel that it is. Because it comes up!

And mostly when I consider my age, I simply panic because I don't feel like I've grown up much since I was 17. My bank account certainly hasn't grown much since I was 21. So, I get worried. My youth! Have I squandered you? But, whatever. Really, I can't wait for 30. I'm done with my useless 20s. DONE!

If I were interested in him in a K. Arnold/W. Cooper kind of way, his age wouldn't matter. Trust me. I just don't want to be anyone's older, wiser woman. Cause older I'm sure to get? But wiser? I seriously doubt it.

Then forgive me for asking, but who is ghost writing all your posts?



(Oh, I know one can write wiser than one be, but it can't all come from nowhere.)