The Bloom of my Youth… It’s starting to smell rotten…

January 27, 2012

Aging, Essays for Giggles

My last post was 10 days ago.  I am going to have to go back to talking about my husband in order to have some fresh material.  Seriously.  I will no longer be a participant in this self-imposed gag order!  I am woman hear me roar!

My husband married me in the bloom of my youth… I was 36 when we got married… and destroyed my looks… I could have passed for 26, if you’d had a few beers and the lights were dim… now, I tell people I am 46… no one protests.  “No, that is not possible!  How could you look so young and fresh?”  This is an example of words I no longer hear.

I am not kidding you, when I was 40, 41, 42… and happened to mention my age in some social context… always around women 10 –  15 years younger than me, since we were both holding our young children at the time, I ALWAYS got a protest:  “NO WAY… you are not in your 40’s!”… now, I get this deadpan look like “go on…”.

I feel like a line from “Borat” which I will now paraphrase:  “When I marry her she strong on plow… now her vagine hang like sleeve of wizard”… something like that.

Truth be told, it is not my husband who has caused the premature aging process but my child.  I had a daughter – in the slightly later bloom of my youth – 6 weeks before my 40th birthday – and she is like some kind of life-force-sucking vampire.

Somehow, this creature has gotten the idea that I am her actual, physical servant.  I am on call 24 hours a day, without sick leave or vacation pay.  Thank God she is in school 6 hours a day or I would literally be an empty human shell… staring through vacant eyes… like a mannequin that has been run over by a bus.

What I am trying to say… is that I recently saw a performance of “Menopause The Musical”… and it wasn’t funny.  Women were wetting themselves, writhing in their seats… and that shit wasn’t funny… and I will tell you why… for most of the women, they were THERE… ha ha… let’s try to make the best of it, we are all in this together… ME?  I wasn’t THERE, but I was at the top of the hill looking down… down into the abyss… and I gotta tell you – that shit wasn’t funny.

I looked in the mirror the other day and almost had a heart attack when I saw my mother staring back at me.  In case she is reading this, no offense to my mother.  I am quite sure she didn’t like it when she looked in the mirror and saw HER mother staring back at her.  Happens to all of us.

Poor Demi Moore – a fabulous specimen of a woman if there ever was one.  If the aging process could be held at bay an extra decade, Demi did it. But what was she thinking marrying a puppy 15 years younger than her?  A cute, very rich and famous puppy with lots of opportunity to piss on other people’s trees?  The end game on that was never going to be in her favor.

I will say that in my late 40’s, I do have a sort of zen-like attitude which can basically be summed up in 5 words “ you can kiss my ass.”  These five words seem to solve most of my problems.  Usually because those people won’t speak to me anymore.  Or they fire me.

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About reneadijab

Renea Dijab

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2 Comments on “The Bloom of my Youth… It’s starting to smell rotten…”

  1. ozzyatl Says:

    I’m trying to cultivate the menopausal fuck-you attitude now, to reap the maximum benefits. To your five words I add: Kegel, schmegel!


  2. June Says:

    I love your zen-like attitude. Don’t change a thing!


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