Age. Getting Older. Over the hill, past it and one foot in the grave. There are so many ways we add a comical spin to this subject, yet really, aren't we all just a bit terrified of it?
Now, at thirty eight, I'm no spring chicken, but nor am I quite ready for a home that smells of pee and cabbage, where I have to argue about what to watch on the communal TV whilst I dribble into my twin set and attempt Sudoku to convince the nurses I have my marbles. What I have noticed though are some disturbing changes in the last few years.
I have become aware that there is a lack of good music being released. Or is there? Is it just that the music of 'today' is mainly monotonous rap (yes, without the 'c') full of profanities and soul-less pop invented in Simon Cowell's song manufacturing plant. If I hear a guitar it's probably just another Irish type folk band with a song that sounds like some I used to like, or at the other end of the extreme, Elbow, who I want to like, because they're cool, but nevertheless make me want to commit suicide if I sit through an entire album. Well, I say album, is there such thing as an album any more? I try to embrace music, I'm a huge fan of it, but I have a new theory, which is that I've simply heard it all before. That's it, simple as that. People are still producing music that sounds good if you're nine years old, because you've never heard it before, but me, I've heard it before!! As a result I find myself trying to like people I wouldn't normally, like PJ Harvey, I've had several attempts at liking her music, every time I nearly like it but wish she didn't sound a little bit, well mentally unstable.
Speaking of mentally unstable, I find myself unable to remember song lyrics. I can almost remember them, but not quite. My brain somehow muddles up words that are correct, with some others from deep inside my memory somewhere. 'I belong to you, you belong to me you're my sweet-heart' becomes 'you're my scream' - now where in hell fire did that come from? It doesn't even make sense. In fact I had to sit here for five minutes to actually remember the wrong words. Is this early onset Alzheimer's, or simply old age? Or, have I got so much space rubble floating around in my mind that there's just no room for retaining anything that's not absolutely necessary? I really don't know.
The same theory can be applied to greetings cards as is to music. At the age of about fourteen I can remember wandering into Clintons (other card shops are available) and laughing out loud at some of the cards on offer. Now however, I have just simply, heard or seen them all before. Unless there is genuinely a lack of really ground breaking designs lurking in a corner somewhere? I find myself settling for the 'funky' designs instead, but even they are lacking in new ideas these days. Maybe I'm just becoming miserable, harder to make laugh? Surely not. I mean, when we age we can't lose our sense of humour, otherwise how would we cope with our drooping appendages and not being visually appealing any more, it's the only way, surely? We have to find the funny. Clintons however, is not the place to find our funny at all. Another theory of course could be that we are just too bloody busy to spend half an hour choosing a funny card, this is viable, and so we plump for a slightly classy blank card from Waitrose, if it's for someone we like. If not it's Asda. If we really don't like them but still need to send a card, a petrol station or the emergency stand in the works canteen works just fine.
To add to the list of uncomfortable signs of old age, is hearing yourself saying exactly what your parents said to you, and you thought at the time 'if I ever get like this, kill me, beat me to death with the bluntest instrument you can find'. So far I've employed: 'turn that ipod (was walkman) down you'll damage your hearing', 'if you're hungry, you'll eat what's in front of you', 'no dessert/sweets if you don't eat your dinner', 'please play the whole of the song and stop skipping through the first four seconds of each one', 'open the curtains it's like the black hole of Calcutta in this bedroom' and many, many more.
One of the most glorious things about being almost forty, is that I find myself getting far less embarrassed about things that used to prevent me from leaving the house. I haven't shaved my legs, I'm wearing a massive pair of Bridgets and my hair isn't washed I've just used dry shampoo. I don't actually give a fiddler's flatulence because one thing I've learned is that it really just does not make a difference, it's not important, life is for the living, not for hours in the bathroom before I'll even get the day started. It's very liberating. There is a part of me that thinks perhaps I should make more effort for my husband's sake, but if I did anything else, I'd be trying to be someone I am not. I can't stand it when people have plastic surgery or botox. They actually do look ridiculous in the deepest sense of the word. Lesley Ash, now looks like Red from Fraggle Rock, Carol Vorderman looks as if she may melt when placed to close to a heat source. People no longer express things facially because their faces don't move properly. It's just wrong on so many levels. Putting yourself through the pain and discomfort and risk of infection when those doctors should be working on people who are actually poorly, not just vain. There are so many beautiful people who are just aging gracefully, I have a few grey hairs at my temples, and my face has gone a bit Judy Finnigan. But it's my face. If all else fails and my husband leaves me for a younger model I will just live by the sea with my dogs and be myself. I know what's important and he should too. Come on world we have this bit so wrong.
Worrying about my pension. Now there's a thing I never thought I'd do. But now I have the experience of watching my elderly father struggle because the system he paid into his whole life, has let him down, and now, I'm doing the same. I wonder if my grandfather had the best idea, secretly saving piles of cash in odd places around the house. I now find myself talking myself out of buying things and saving the money instead. The thought of having to live on the poverty line when I'm older is not one I relish. Grandad also panic bought jars of coffee and bags of sugar, whatever catastrophe hit, he was not going to fall asleep on the job with a supply pantry like that.
On the whole, I like to think I'll age gracefully, I've never done anything else gracefully, but I'll aim for this one. When I'm fifty, I want to look like a natural fifty year old, with all of my facial expressions (and probably hair) in tact. One thing is for sure though, I'm gonna be an opinionated, cynical and grumpy old sod, and I've already started to practice!
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