In exactly one month from today, I will be turning 40 years old. I suppose I should Feel Something About That, but...not really? I'm more stunned by the realization that I'm only 10 years away from being 50 years old, at which point I can FINALLY fulfill my life-long dream of living full-time as Molly Shannon's SNL character. Better get working on those high kicks!
(Although I have no intention of shying away from my age, I do admit I am intrigued by a fellow-39-going-on-40 friend's plan to say he's "39 Part II" and then "39 Part III," then end the trilogy by turning 42, at which point he can literally be the answer to Life, the Universe and Everything. That's a solid plan and I applaud it.)
I really enjoyed my 30s though, and all the growing/evolving as a person mixed with a solid appreciation for no longer giving a fuck. I'm hoping that trend continues and I can put off being too Set In My Ways for awhile longer. (Unless, of course, My Ways involve lots of insane hats, occasional day drinking. fighting the patriarchy from a tricked-out motorized scooter, and always tipping the waitstaff well.)
THAT SAID, in honor of my last few weeks of 39 -- and of course some of that sweet, sweet Cyber Monday affiliate linkage -- I'm going to get prematurely bossy and go all wise and sage on your asses and pass along a few things I've learned over the last decade of my life and/or right this second as they occur to me:
Christian Dior Blackout mascara. I have tried all the mascaras. This is the best one. And it will look as good as the day you bought it on the day you eke out the last wandful.
NOT WORTH IT:
Super expensive makeup palettes with dozens of shades because you're only going to use like, one or two of them consistently.
ALSO NOT WORTH IT:
I switched to a Mac because that's what all the cool bloggers used. Three very, very expensive laptops later...
TOTALLY FUCKING WORTH IT:
Comb hair tangles out IN the shower with conditioner and a wide-toothed comb.
Whatever caused us all to abandon the scrunchie.
I DON'T GIVE A FUCK:
I wear scrunchies now and think they're just great. You wanna fight about it?
I DO GIVE A FUCK:
Women's rights, LGBTQ rights, quality public education and a well-funded social safety net for all.
Literally everything about this season of Crazy Ex-Girlfriend
(And like, every other harassing/groping/creeping asshole on the planet, including Mike from Display Advertising way back in 1999. No, I still haven't forgotten, you handsy piece of shit.)
(Same goes to you, Lady From HR Whose Name I Can't Remember. Thanks for the super-memorable life lesson about keeping my mouth shut though!)
WHERE THE SHIT IS AT:
THE REAL BEST REASON TO CLOTH DIAPER:
You basically get to be smug about it your entire life.
THE REAL BEST REASON TO HAVE CHILDREN:
They grow up and learn how to do things. Like the dishwasher. And their own laundry.
HOW TO SUCCEED AT MARRIAGE:
Marry your best friend. Be GGG. Laugh a lot. Fight fair. Don't use the toilet in front of each other or let him watch you change in and out of a sports bra. Agree to leave the room when he eats string cheese instead of silently raging because YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO EAT IT IN STRINGS NOT BITES MY GOD YOU INHUMAN MONSTER.
MARRIAGE GOALS FOR 40:
We're finally gettin' a hot tub, awwwwww yeah.
PARENTING GOALS FOR 40:
Invent an alarm clock that actually wakes them up in the morning and/or physically hauls them out of bed and then like, puts a protective force field around the bed to prevent re-entry five minutes later.
Also, less yelling.
PERSONAL GOALS FOR 40:
I am still really mean to myself inside my head sometimes a lot. Tackle the phone thing. Lose some of the Trump-stress weight, but like, nicely.
PROFESSIONAL GOALS FOR 40:
Umm...don't get fired? Actually pretty happy with everything as-is right now.
STYLE GOALS FOR 40:
Finally buy those Doc Martens I wanted in high school but could never afford. More dresses with pockets, fewer bras with padding, and zero tolerance for "you're too old to dress/dye your hair/get tattoo'd/pierced/whatever like that" bullshit.