Sunday, January 25, 2009

More Tuesdays With Buddhist Buddy--The One I'd like to Strangle

No Buddhists were injured in the writing of this post...

but my mind did go to a dark place a few times. I love my Buddhist Buddy, I do. But you’d think with all the compassion crap they espouse, she might have the decency to join me in my midlife mother f*cker of a crisis. But no, she’s says stuff like…

Meg, many women accept their aging with grace.

Hello, I say back.

They’re all on Paxil. P A X I L. Sometimes her naivety worries me.

So where was I? Oh yeah, skinny jeans. Can I wear them? But this, of course, is a question for my gay Buddhist Buddy, not my straight one.

But then she takes a sip of tea and says something that gives me pause. It sounds like your crisis is about more than physical age. It seems it’s really a fitting in sort of thing.

I realize Dr. Buddhist is right.

I am looking to fit into more than just skinny jeans. 

I still want to be a member of the club. Can you blame me? I’ve had these distinct phases in my life: my Rock Concert Phase in high school (AKA Hearing Impaired Phase); my Theater Party Phase in college (AKA my Dance Nude to Weird Music Phase); in graduate school, my Save the World Phase (AKA Excuse Me, Could You Sign this Petition Phase). 

It didn’t matter where I was, what I was doing, or how I was dressed, I was young. That was a fact. I never thought about it. I’ve played various roles and the thing they had in common was the "young" actress.

But in my next role, I begin, I’ll be lumped with InStyle’s Fi…Fi…Fif…. I swallow hard, fifty and up. That’s the same age group as my grandmother, for Chrissake! I’ll have to wear housecoats and Isotoner slippers!

Buddhist Buddy laughs. She knew me when I wore vintage under slips and High top shoes.

I’m now an Inbetween. An in-be-tween! And I don’t know what an Inbetween is supposed to do. Really. I mean, can I still stay in youth hostels?  Run in a mosh circle?  Can I still wear a bikini? High tops? 

When do I start wearing silk blouses or those artist smock shirts? When will I be too old to shop at the Gap? When will I not feel like I’m living in the Gap?

The gap between Young and Not Young.

I’m living in the frickin’ Gap, I shout.

At that point Daughter inquires from the family room if I’m OK. No, I’m not, I call out. Go back to watching Degrassi.

My head aches. I pour more wine.

Here’s the thing, ever seen those clerks at the Gap? They know their freedom is approaching and that it’s endless and limitless. They’re oblivious to the fact that one day they’ll be 40-something, knee deep in knee socks ruminating over which fabric softener to use. O-bliv-i-ous.

That’s what I want. To be oblivious. To believe that the possibilities are endless. Isn’t that what we all want? Circle Yes/No. Better yet, leave me a comment. 

Fine! I slam the glass down on the table.

Let those clerks think they’ll have time for foreign films. 

Let them think they'll build a 30-foot sloop and summer in Maine in something out of House Beautiful with Stickley furniture and rare books.

Let them think they’ll take up Celtic harp, Buddhist throws in. (Told you. Gra-no-la)

Let them think they’ll be poets or filmmakers or Wall Street wizards, I continue.

Or organic farmers.

Does she think this is funny? 

Let they think they’ll always like fast cars and loud music and… 

Thai food. 

Let them think they’ll always wear skinny blue jeans. 

I mean, the inside of me still feels like them. I do. I really do. I could hop in a convertible this minute and drive topless down the highway. Only at my age, I’d have to wear a seatbelt and SPF 62 sunscreen.

And in case you're thinking of tagging me with this:

Here it is. My most honest scrap confession: Trying to find the right fit of jeans at the Gap recently, after trying on 38 pairs, I found myself hating those 17-year-olds because they are 17 and hating, hating my 40-something self because I’m 40-something.  

I tell this to Buddhist Buddy--a desperate cry for sympathy. 

But clearly I’m barking up the wrong Buddhist.

Meditate, says Buddhist. Contemplate the pros and cons of being Not Young.

Whatever. But is not wearing skinny jeans a pro or a con? And I’m confused about Nicole Kidman. Now that she’s 40, we mature women have another gorgeous Not Young role model. But does that mean that the rest of us are expected to look as good as she does?

Doesn’t ‘being a mother’ make the positive column of being Not Young? Buddhist says.


Doesn’t it?

I guess, I concede. Though I don’t like seeing my own mother when I look in the mirror, I do enjoy being one. I mean, my ten-year old has no idea of my true hair color

Right. His love is boundless, she adds.

But let’s face it, I say retrieving the corkscrew on the counter. My kids are part of the reason I have to color the gray. 

Of course, not being one to use chemical dyes, Buddhist Buddy has no idea about that either. 

Her graceful acceptance of aging makes me think I should consider her religion. Sitting meditations, silent retreats, the path to enlightenment. Nah…

I grab the phone book and look up the number for my doctor. I’m taking a different route.

More Honest Scrap at Humor-Blogs.


Cat said...

I just put on the high tops and walk out the door. Who cares if people think they look ridiculous on my 45 year old feet? They have a lot less side effects than Prozac.

Prefers Her Fantasy Life said...

Cat - Good for you, Girl!! Clearly I'm barking up the wrong blogger here.

The Self-Deprechaun said...

My wife won't let me wear my expensive skinny jeans anymore. Actually a lot of me spills out of it like that 'muffin top' affect and i'm not sure if i would be able to get out of them after. You probably look hot rocking out to Wilco. Those 17yr olds don't know what is up!

I will take the route to Prozac please.

Kay said...

I am almost out of my 20s and I am already starting to wonder about the “not young.”

When will I be too old to wear my “OMG WTF?” tee shirt? What about the one that announces that I Recycle Boys?

Really though… I think you are great and I say wear the bikini and the skinny jeans to the hostel until you don’t want to anymore.

Sorcerer said...

awesome post
enjoyed reading your posts

loved your writing style

Matt-Man said...

Take my advice. Reality (and aging) Goes Better with Bagwine. Drinking Wild Irish Rose not only eases one's worry and/or concerns during a mid-life crisis, it speeds up the process. And typically, you won't remember half of it. Cheers Meg!!

Prefers Her Fantasy Life said...

Self D-Man - Thank you. Yes, I do look hot rocking out to Wilco. That's because the lights are low and everybody's high.

Kay - I want an OMG WTF shirt!

Sorcerer - Thank you. Let's hope the Paxil won't effect my writing.

Matt-Man - If I take your advice, I may end up like you--posting videos of myself taking off my clothes.

Matt-Man said...

Yeah? What's your point? Cheers!!

Suzie said...

You know what I hate those jeans that cut so low all my flab rolls over the top. Yes Im old I want waist high mom jeans now. I do.

Prefers Her Fantasy Life said...

Matt-Man - My point is that my legs aren't as sexy as yours.

Suzie - But then the muffin top is just higher. And then there's the risk of a camel toe.

Chris Wood said...

Can I suggest driving topless while doing yoga, meditating and gargling with neat Scotch?

It will bring you closer to nirvana. Probably.

Jenn Thorson said...

Maybe this can be the Wearing Whatever You Damn Well Want phase... I vote for that.

Sue said...

I tried on a pair of skinny jeans while Christmas shopping, thought I looked pretty good, admired myself in the mirror, noticed the zipper was down. I thought I zipped it up, and I did, but then it broke. So I peeled them off and put them back on the shelf, under the rest of them cheaply made jeans.

for a different kind of girl said...

So the other day I was sitting here in my 41 year old world, and I was suddenly thinking about when I was 22 and life was The Awesome back then. I may not have been in skinny jeans then (nor now) but the process of at least attempting to get in them then was a hell of a lot easier. I need a big old tweak on the Wellbutrin, and soon, I think!

Julia D said...

aww, don't let the skinny jeans cause you this much upset. Trust me, they don't look good on anyone, at any age. It's not just you.

And whatever you choose to do in your life from here on out, like staying at youth hostels or going to concerts or dancing to strange music naked, just make sure you do it with conviction. I think that's what getting older is all about. You still get to do everything you want to, and you get to be more secure in your actions while doing it. Teens are supposed to think that they look stupid; adults always seem to forget how awkward and sometimes terrible the younger years can be. Someday you may look back and realize that these are actually your glory days ;)

Prefers Her Fantasy Life said...

Chris - Wanna ride shotgun?

Jenn - I could be wrong, but isn't wearing whatever one wants a clear sign of old age?

Sue - You go girl!

FADKOG - Better living through chemistry is what I always say.

Prefers Her Fantasy Life said...

Julia - Good advice, thank you. But where do you stand on the high tops issue?

Deb said...

Time to throw the Buddhist Buddy off a bridge and enjoy every second of your MMF of a crisis. Isn't a Buddhist buddy like a Chia pet?

Heinous said...

Psh, do what you want for as long as you want. Or at least until you break yourself.

bernthis said...

oh God, did you hear me laughing and crying over there b/c you are living the same life as me although the jeans is not my issue. I have bad knee and whenever I see a kid running, I want to grab him and steal all the cartilage from his knees and put it in my own and then let him go. I've got the maturity of a 13 year old, why not the cartilage?

Vodka Mom said...

HOly shit that was funny the whole way through!!


Thai FOod? Celtic harp?? BWahahahaha.

i think I love you.

Vodka Mom said...

btw Where's the vodka ramp???????

ML said...

Hey Meg, I still don't know what to be when I grow up. (I am fast approaching the big 50 too.) I have no sympathy for those just turning 40, that's too young to relate.
As for skinny jeans, I think the only person in the world that can wear them is Maeve and you know how young and skinny she is.
As for high tops, go for it! I've always been a heels person myself, but whatever makes you feel good.
What about skirts? I am suddenly realizing the legs are the last to go - We may need to feature them more in the future.

Prefers Her Fantasy Life said...

Deb - Yes, a Buddhist Buddy is like a Chia Pet--an organic one.

Heinous - Osteoporosis - Thanks. Another thing to look forward to.

BernBaby - Damn straight. And it's even worse for you being in the "business."

Vodka Mom - You tell me.

ML - Yes, legs. That's all poor Barbara Walters has left.

Scott said...

Meg, the difference between you and me is you water down your craziness and I go way over the line. I love your blog though, and would love to add a link to it on my blog. Would you be interested in a link exchange?
Let me know!
Thanks :-)

sage said...

Forget skinny jeans, wear short cut offs instead, with heels! (I think I'm going to have to cut off my jeans this summer, I miss those frilly edge shorts).

Jen of A2eatwrite said...

Do what I do - live in the unreality of the fiction you create. ;-)

My protag is having a wild time at vampire raves on the Lower East Side right now.

I'm doing laundry and baking biscotti and volunteering for my son's school.

Living in my protag's head works sometimes. ;-)