Turning 40
is not fun, is fun, is exhilirating, is confusing, is hilarious, is heartbreaking .... is any and all of the above.
So I turned 40 on May 24 this year. As you know if you have made a cursory perusal of this blog, I was in Puerto Vallarta, Jalisco, Mexico at the time.
One of the best things about reaching that milestone in P-V is that the light there is ultra flattering.
My friend and adventure partner Tex took much delight in telling all and sundry that "Wednesday is her birthday, and guess what! She's forty!" And, inevitably, thanks to the indirect lighting in that southerly holiday clime, (and perhaps, the overabundance of blurry- vision-producing libations) our friendly correspondents expressed surprise and disbelief upon learning that yours truly had entered her fifth decade.
To be fair, I must note: One of the common t-shirts seen there sports the saying "The more beers you drink -- the better looking they get." Still, whatever, I'll take it. I mean, what the hell? Why dissect, when you can simply digest?
hmm. Anyway. On the day in question, I admit, I broke down a bit on the beach behind my giant Olsen twin shades. Alfredo the friendly waiter noted my distress and kept me supplied with fresh tequila and cold Dos Equis ... making getting through the day much easier, and in the end, pure delight.
But it hits me every once in a while. Yesterday I was looking at the latest "InStyle" when I realized the sassy sundress shown for people in their 20s and 30s was not recommended for me. For the 40s crowd, the editor picked out some dowdy jeans, a tank and an cotton shirt to go over it. YUCK! Not to mention, the lipstick recommended for ladies of my decade has as its major feature a "non feathering" formula.
There are, without a doubt, some wonderful things about being this age at this time and in this place. I will continue to act and dress however I like. That means if i want to wear a flippy little sundress, I will, dammit! And Linda Goodman's advice in the final chapter of her book Star Signs is coming in very handy. Even if she really did die.
Plus, I have never been so sure of who I am and what I want than I am now. Except for maybe when I was nine and every single person I invited to my birthday party showed up.
xoxoxo kisses AND hugs!
So I turned 40 on May 24 this year. As you know if you have made a cursory perusal of this blog, I was in Puerto Vallarta, Jalisco, Mexico at the time.
One of the best things about reaching that milestone in P-V is that the light there is ultra flattering.
My friend and adventure partner Tex took much delight in telling all and sundry that "Wednesday is her birthday, and guess what! She's forty!" And, inevitably, thanks to the indirect lighting in that southerly holiday clime, (and perhaps, the overabundance of blurry- vision-producing libations) our friendly correspondents expressed surprise and disbelief upon learning that yours truly had entered her fifth decade.
To be fair, I must note: One of the common t-shirts seen there sports the saying "The more beers you drink -- the better looking they get." Still, whatever, I'll take it. I mean, what the hell? Why dissect, when you can simply digest?
hmm. Anyway. On the day in question, I admit, I broke down a bit on the beach behind my giant Olsen twin shades. Alfredo the friendly waiter noted my distress and kept me supplied with fresh tequila and cold Dos Equis ... making getting through the day much easier, and in the end, pure delight.
But it hits me every once in a while. Yesterday I was looking at the latest "InStyle" when I realized the sassy sundress shown for people in their 20s and 30s was not recommended for me. For the 40s crowd, the editor picked out some dowdy jeans, a tank and an cotton shirt to go over it. YUCK! Not to mention, the lipstick recommended for ladies of my decade has as its major feature a "non feathering" formula.
There are, without a doubt, some wonderful things about being this age at this time and in this place. I will continue to act and dress however I like. That means if i want to wear a flippy little sundress, I will, dammit! And Linda Goodman's advice in the final chapter of her book Star Signs is coming in very handy. Even if she really did die.
Plus, I have never been so sure of who I am and what I want than I am now. Except for maybe when I was nine and every single person I invited to my birthday party showed up.
xoxoxo kisses AND hugs!
posted by Queen of Cheese | 9:45 AM
2 Comments:
all that shock and surprise about your age had nothing to do with the lighting....and everything to do with your youthful spirit, which is reflected on your face.
no one will ever be able to guess your real age. and you SHOULD keep wearing any damn thing you want to. screw "in style!"
you are still a fresh flower...
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