I'm starting to think only if you're a celebrity.
In a matter of weeks, I turn forty. I've been trying not to let it bother me, but to be honest, it's actually giving me nightmares. Today was no exception. I was looking human for the first time in a long time, not just human, but dare I say good. Well, as good as you can as a cripple with a cane in a foot and a half of snow. But anyways, I was at the book store, and this really hot looking guy started to talk to me, and was down right flirting. He was smart, funny, 5 foot 11, dark hair, green eyes, Irish, and 30. Totally my type. Everything was going great, till he asked me how old I was.
When I told him 39, all the colour drained out of his face and he screwed up his mouth like he'd tasted something rotten, took a physical step away from me, mumbled to himself and left.
Throughout the series of Sex and the City, age happens. The first episode is about the main characters celebrating/fearing being over 30. In the first of the movie installments, Carrie is tortured by the fact she's unmarried at 41.
I keep seeing articles, and tv shows and movies about how "40 is the new 30" but it sure as hell doesn't feel that way. My cousin just celebrated her 40th, and it wasn't all that happy. She barely had the cake cut when her boyfriend of six years decided she was too old for him. He's turning 33 this year.
On a night like this I can't help but wonder...will age ever be just a number?
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