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

[Eliza Hodgkins 1812]

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!

[lizziebith]

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

[€uroMeinke]

Originally Posted by Eliza Hodgkins 1812

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!

Or perhaps just a little insightful

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

[MickeyLumbo]

Originally Posted by Eliza Hodgkins 1812

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.

!

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


i love old women

[Cadaverous Pallor]

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.

[Cadaverous Pallor]

Oh, and...

Originally Posted by Eliza Hodgkins 1812

Oh, boy, do I have HIM fooled.

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.

[blueerica]

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.

[Eliza Hodgkins 1812]

Originally Posted by MickeyLumbo

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

LMFAO, Lickey!

[Not Afraid]

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

[Eliza Hodgkins 1812]

Originally Posted by blueerica

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.

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!