Reality…the cold-hearted bitch

I was doing a little retail therapy over the weekend when reality came up and gave me such a bitch slap: there are some things out there that are just too young for me.

The hell you say!

Hard to believe, but true. I first noticed it when the nice person at the fragrance and lotion store asked me if I’d tried the newest fragrance. I had just played with the dark, seductive spices, but I was game to try a new fragrance. And seriously, when aren’t I game for anything? But I tried it and nearly gagged. It was sugar wrapped in saccharine dipped in corn syrup. I politely smelled the little smelly tag they give you, thanked him (yes, it was a him – how very cool) and went back to the dark stuff. I turned to look for my daughter, who was by the way over with the sugar fragrance, and the second sale associate tried to lure me back over to the display. This time I held firm. I told her it smelled good but it was a little young for me.

I literally choked on the words.

I come from many generations of misguided souls who believed they were immortal. Ironically, most of them have since passed away, but that’s not really important. The fact that they believed they would live forever and that they’d once have to cave into the convention of getting older is really the point I’m trying to make. It gives you an insight into what makes me tick. We believe that we can do anything, no matter what our age, and if by some odd circumstance we can’t; well no one wants to do that stupid shit anyway. Generations of my family cannot be wrong!

But in the fragrance and lotion store I had that ugly revelation. I am getting too old for some things in life. And it got me wondering what else I might be too old for. I came with the following:

  • I’m too old for body piercings. Although there is a certain part of my anatomy I’d like to get pierced, I realize that I’m just too old for it. This realization stems more from the fact that I’d have to actually expose that part of my body to the piercing artist more than the fact that I’d have a piercing. In other words, I know it would look good; I’m just not showing it.
  • I’m too old for bright lipstick. Or maybe I’m too pale. Or maybe it’s just not in style anymore and no one should wear it. Literally, I’m on the fence on this one.
  • I’m too old to do a cartwheel. I’ve tried. It hurts and that’s about all I’m going to say on this one.
  • I’m too old for tequila shots. And as far as that goes, I’m too old to say ‘lick it, slam it, suck it’. It’s just not classy for a woman of a certain age to slam a tequila shooter, run to the ladies’ room, puke and come back for another. The fact that I call it a ladies room is more proof that I’ve past this stage in my life.
  • I’m too old for halter tops, but not too old for cami’s. Halter tops conjure up love-in’s, pot and mosh pits. Cami’s are a functional wardrobe piece. Again, the fact that I’m looking for function in my clothing is one more clue that I need to steer clear of the halters. Besides, my boobs are too big for halters.
  • I’m too old to stay out past 2:00 a.m. I know this from experience. I came home at 3:00 a.m. a few weekends ago and I had to take about fifty naps the next day. My husband made fun of me. He is, after all, two months younger than me.
  • I’m too old to get into a bar fight. I’m not too old to watch someone else get into a bar fight. I’ll never get too old for that!


Well, isn’t that a sad list? It’s absolutely depressing the shit I’m too old for. Thank God I never take myself seriously. I’ve gotta run now! Of to buy tequila and get a piercing! Stay Young!


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