24 hours ago
March 24, 2013
i was drunk and dancing.
there’s something about dressing up,
knocking back one or two shots of jameson,
keeping the buzz going with a bud light,
(which, before you judge me,
i enjoy for their cheapness, lack of flavor,
and because you can dance with one in your hand without
some flailing drunk-ass soaking you in your hard-earned pin money)
while a room full of gays and gay adjacent folks all sing—in tune!—to any number of pop songs from the 80’s – now (in tune) that i find to be
. . . rejuvenating.
on this particular evening,
i was helping a boy ‘celebrate life’.
he’d passed through a rough patch and found himself in a good mood.
can you honestly think of a better reason to celebrate?
and so i danced. hard.
and though today i find i’m a bit sore,
which is likely more a combination of
pretty-but-useless footwear
liquor toxins
age
and crashing in not my bed,
it was very worth it.
why am i telling you all this?
why should you care?
sure, if you’re reading this, you likely like me
(though it’s possible you’re just waiting to see if you won a book.
no worries. we’ll get there. keep reading)
and, since you like me, you like
when i’m happy.
still,
maybe you’d like more.
since, really, i can’t even provide a picture to entertain you.
except this one i accidentally took while dancing.
you see, the reason why this story is important is because
last night, i took my first steps toward accepting the aging process.
i’ve had a problem with getting older basically since i turned twenty three. and while i realize that this is an irrational issue and that, in the scheme of things, many people would consider me to still be young, i’m confident that every single person who reads this post also has his or her own “thing” with which s/he obsesses, irrationally.
(do tell me you do so i feel better about myself)
last night, however, two things happened that made me glad i was older (relatively)
1) i ‘pre-gamed’ briefly a the boy celebrating life’s friends house. on average, i was the oldest person in the room by about six years. sitting there on a broken couch, eliciting laughter that was grossly disproportional to the effort i was putting into my repartee, there was a moment in which i left my body and thought, “thank christ i am not this silly”, and then smiled to myself, sitting in blissful ignorance while they talked about the import of something called snapchat.
2) later, in the middle of the dance floor, i ran into a friend from college i haven’t seen since i graduated. i literally screamed multiple times in the highest pitch of which i am physically capable. in that moment, the past six years flashed before my mind’s eye. i’ve been around the world, gotten two masters degrees, kissed all the boys, got mo, fallen in love, kept up a blog (mostly) for nearly four years, almost died, moved four times, lived abroad, taught at a big ten university, and learned to fucking knit, to name only the big things i can think of at 1:30am.
my only real goal in life
is to live a life i can be proud of.
all i want to do is be able to look back on my life when i’m old old
and be able to say that i wasn’t boring.
so far, i’m not doing too badly.
and i guess my progressively sagging skin and longer recovery time isn’t that high a price to pay to maximize fabulosity.
still, i’ll totally blow you for some botox.
***********************************************************
the random number generator has spoken
and the following people have won one of my extra copies of colours of shetland:
2 – cauchy09
9 – stepahnie
12 – ashely
you can now all glare at them in jealousy.
however! i will be giving away a handspun and knit fo in the next day or so, so stay tuned, bitches!
Bitches Get Stitches 
March 24, 2013 at 8:24 am
I do like you, I definitely like when you’re happy and I’m glaring with jealousy at cauchy, Stephanie and Ashley. The burning question, however, is: Are those your legs in the floral lace tights? 🙂
March 24, 2013 at 8:31 am
Gah, I have these out-of-body experiences in groups quite often because of my job. Daily reminders of aging (and gaining some modicum of wisdom) are copious around here but I am more and more grateful to not be that young anymore. Keep on dancing!
Thanks for the book!
March 24, 2013 at 10:05 am
Such a juicy read. Don’t forget: I’ll always be older.
March 24, 2013 at 10:39 am
OK. My irrational thing: I want to be prepared. Just generally. Always. Ready and prepared. So my friend Natalie passed me (years ago) a story about a woman who decided what day she should die, put her affairs in order, notified the paper, cleaned her house, made a bundt cake, cleaned the kitchen up, dug her own grave, lay down in it and died.
I thought, Holy baby Jesus, that is the gold standard! And Natalie said, quite gently, “No, honey, that is fucking crazy.”
March 24, 2013 at 12:03 pm
Maximizing your fabulosity, an admirable goal indeed. Glad you had a good night out and are finding your non-boring, inner fabulous. Sashay away.
March 24, 2013 at 7:07 pm
Sweety Botox hurts, I had injections to help reduce the number of migraine headaches I was having., but it felt like I was being stung by bees, not a pleasant feeling.. You are young and gorgeous just the way you are. !!!, give Mo a hug
March 24, 2013 at 9:12 pm
This spoke to my soul! I’m often surrounded by younger people too, and learning how to gracefully accept that I’m not really one of them anymore (at least on the outside).
March 24, 2013 at 11:10 pm
I so feel your uneasiness with aging, as I ponder getting a totally boring haircut (losing the ponytail) to deal with my male-pattern baldness! The big issue with this: It would SOOO emphasize that my manager at work is young enough to be my son!!! As Mick and/or Keith once sang, “What a drag it is getting old. . .”!
However, from my point of view, you are still a “young Jedi”. Continue practicing your proficiency in the Force.
Your “done that” list is pretty amazing and something to be proud of. Especially “got mo”, ‘cuz your readers know Mo is super special! (Give him a treat and a hug from all your readers!)
March 25, 2013 at 12:20 am
Congrats to the winners!
I’ve had a hard dose of reality this past week. I’m almost (ahem, hack, cough, cough) 44, but my mind thinks I’m half that age. I decided to join my son’s last basketball practice of parents vs. kids. I could never resist a hard game of bball, especially when I’m up against guys twice my size. I like to show them that I can take the hard hits. Never mind that it’s been over 20 years since I’ve played a hard game of bball. Who’s counting?
All to say, I’ve jacked my left ankle and heel hard. I’ve never felt so old as the day after that game when I could barely stand up to pull on my pj pants when I got out of bed that morning.
I’ll raise my glass of wine to growing old. Hard and ungracefully!
March 25, 2013 at 9:20 am
I am so excited. Thank-you very much!
I have the same goal. I’m not exactly where I want to be yet, but I’m trying.
March 25, 2013 at 12:18 pm
I like you 🙂 and am like you! I spose some (I have more than one, I’m that cool) of my obsessive and irrational tendencies are directed toward aging – I’m excited for it and terrified of it. I know what I want my older life to be like, but to get there…that’s the hard part. I also irrationally obsess about my figure (who doesn’t, right?) – I want to be able to eat and drink all the things and be thin and fit and pretty.
Keep on being happy, you’re fabulous!
March 26, 2013 at 9:02 am
Sweetie, you don’t need botox! Keep being fabulous.
April 2, 2013 at 11:17 pm
I have children older than you. I have known your mother since…single digits, I think. She could tell you stories, if she wanted to. (I am NOT telling.) You are NOT old.