I Like Being Old. Although Dr. Write is trying to pretend she's not old, I want to declare that I love being old (well, older). I hate going to parties. I have always hated going to parties. Ok, I like some parties, the ones where I know all the people and I get to eat good food and talk to the people I don't know--or not talk at all if I don't want to. What I hate are the parties where I don't know anyone and I am supposed to talk to new people and there are more things to drink than there are things to eat. I do not like those parties, but I used to feel obligated to go. Because if I didn't go I would be lame and not have any friends or not meet any men or whatever. But now I am old. I have friends. I have a man. I don't care if people think I'm lame. So I don't have to go. Which I didn't last night. Instead I stayed at home and watched Breach, the movie about uber-spy Robert Hanssen. I ate Ben and Jerry's and drank beer. I didn't have to talk to anyone.
Creepy Men Pick-ups. This was the week to get hit on. Not all by creepy men, but I hate gettiing hit on. Even if I were single. Even if I were getting hit on by Doug Fabrizio or hottie climber Chris Sharma. I hate it when strange men talk to me. Leave me alone!
The most humbling moment of the week. One of the writers in a writing group I work with has severe cerebral palsy and so has a significant speech impediment. She's been working on her speech and making great improvements. Yesterday, she told me she'd spent an entire evening practicing my name. It's pretty amazing to me that someone would devote so much time just to pronounce my name correctly.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
5 comments:
Even though I sometimes pretend (badly, I might add) not to be old, I do like being older for exactly the reasons you cite. I used to go to parties and talk to the same four friends. Then I thought, why am I at this party? So now I just invite the people I want to talk to over and skip the parties. That way I can also have the snacks and drinks I want.
Also, it's a good way to avoid being hit on by people. Not that it happens to me. But lately I find I'm a magnet for men over 50. What does that say about me?
I hope you'll talk to me when I see you later.
I don't know what being old means, aside from being geriatric. I do, however, find myself growing more and more impatient with people under 30. I also find that their walking on my lawn is bothersome.
1. I was glad you came to the party on Saturday; nextly, I too am, at least for the time being, glad to be old, or at least glad to be myself, with my life, my fity-year-old life. Lastly, it has to be a pretty great party, as in, say, an ice cream social, to be better than staying in and watching t.v.
Agree! Last night at my 20 yr reunion I was so very glad to be older and committed to someone. How good it felt to be in front of my class (amazingly enough I was chosen as the very first game contestant in "Who wants to be a millionaire?") and feel very comfortable with my skinny 130 lb redish colored flawed self. And very glad that the two gals going to the bar after the reunion (one I used have a crush on and one I used to make-out with in the bushes at night games) held zero allure.
It makes me feel better to know that I'm not the only person who hates parties. I despise making small talk, and while I feel like a perfectly normal person when I'm alone or with friends/family, I feel like something is wrong with me when I'm at parties (even though I realize that many of the people I'm exchanging obligatory small talk with hate it too).
Last night was one such exhausting party, so tonight I'm recharging by watching truly horrible TV. Ahhhh. That's better.
Post a Comment