Sunday, February 6, 2011

Aging Gracefully

Is a stupid concept. Gracefully? Screw that. Give me Botox and Juvederm. Whatever. I'll do it. I don't want a bunch of sags and lines all over my face I've washed religiously for years to avoid zits, and then wrinkles. All those expensive creams, facials and makeup I've used...why let it just go to waste? I keep my hair up, after all. I keep the Grey covered because if I don't, I'll look like an aging blond Pepe La Pew. You are welcome, world. Once again, you are welcome. I just give and give...I swear.

So, yeah. Today we went to have lunch with my family for my birthday which was yesterday. I'm 45. I don't care who knows. Who gives a crap? I'm obviously not 25, I have a child about to graduate high school, one in college and one who is probably going to be a perpetual freshman in high school. It's very obvious I'm not in my 30s. (Unless I started very early, in which case I would probably be dead because my dad would have murdered me.) I just don't want to look OLDER than I am. There is my rant on anti aging crap. Deal.

So, while we were at lunch, I mentioned that my best friend who lives in another state and I had sort of knocked around the idea of going to Costa Rica during Spring Break. Not like a "Girls Gone Wild" spring break. More of a "tired middle aged women with kids who want to sleep uninterrupted and lay on the beach" spring break. (Lay? Lie? I never can keep it straight.) Anyhow, my brother, who is 41, mind you...he decides that he is the Patriarch of the family, right? He decided this ohhhh, I don't know about 35 years ago or something. He's the boss, right? Wrong. Nobody is the boss of me. He decides to chime in with his sage advice. Here is the conversation in script form to allow for easier understanding:
My One and ONLY (Thank God) sibling: Um, Costa Rica?
Me: Yeah.
Him: You DO realize that you are 45, right?
Me: Duh. Can't get anything past you.
Him: You have kids.
Me: I DO? OhmyGOD!!!
Him: Very funny. You are not a kid.
Me: Really? Do tell. When is your NEXT (as in 50th) trip to DisneyWorld?
Are you gonna dance with Minnie Mouse this time?
Him: *glares at me*
Me: *glares back smugly*
My MOTHER(who butted into the conversation): Who is going to take care of________(my friend's daughter)?
Me: Dunno. I'm not her mother. ___________(my friend) is. My kids will be here with their father. Or you. If they are bad, with you.
Mom: You are not a nice girl.
Me: We've established that.
My brother who really should shut up: Don't you think it's a little irresponsible for you to go running off to party in Costa Rica?
Me: Um, nobody said we were "partying". I did mention "sleeping", though. ALONE. BLISSFULLY, QUIETLY ALONE. See, I'm FORTY FIVE and that is freaking HEAVEN to me.

So, my whole family now thinks I'm selfish because the idea was MENTIONED. No plans have been made, no tickets purchased...nada. They are SO selfish! What will they do when I tell them about my Yoga retreat in Sri Lanka or my Surfing Safari in South America?
One funny thing: My brother compared an aspic dish at the restaurant to the product "Clamato". My son thought he said, "Chlamydia". He was appalled. (My son). I was laughing hysterically, and my brother kept asking me to repeat it because I was trying not to yell "CHLAMYDIA!!!" across the freakin' table. I was mouthing it silently to him and he kept saying crap like, "Clambake?" "What?" "Claptrap? Huh?" and I kept laughing and shaking my head. When I finally got it out, he was disgusted and wanted to know if my son really knew what it was. I asked for him not to get too specific. My son told him that he knew that it was something I'd kill him for. Wise child. I really don't know if my brother knows what it is or not.

I thought it was a plant for years, and told my Mom I had some chlamydia. She freaked out on the phone when I told her and I was mystified as to why she was upset that I had taken an interest in gardening. She was screeching, "WHAT?!?!?! YOU HAVE WHAT?!?!?!" I kept patiently repeating "I have some Chlamydia. I got it today." She kept wigging the hell out. After going back and forth for about 8 hours about it, she finally said, "Wait. Do you mean, CALADIUMS?" and I said, "Yeah, isn't that what I said?" and she said, "NO! You said you had CHLAMYDIA!!!!!" and I said, "Oops, no. I have the plant. Not the disease." Then I probably hung up. I don't remember. Such is my life. A series of misunderstandings and insults. C'est la vie!

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