Who Me? I’m Totally Comfortable With Aging: Guest Post By Cindy Reed

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Cindy Reed is a wife, mom, educator, blogger, and part-time grownup who has been writing at The Reedster Speaks since she refused to name her 2012 resolutions on December 31, 2011. She writes about such Pulitzer-worthy topics as getting her ass kicked in old people yoga, burning her neck during laser hair removal, failing to become a juicing fanatic, and why one should not repeatedly discuss vagina cookies in business meetings with new people. She wears actual pants as little as possible, Cindy has been chosen crowd favorite, Editor’s Choice, and Lurker’s Choice in the Yeah, Write blogging challenge. She lives with her long-suffering husband Matt, their girls, adopted from China and Ethiopia, and two ill-trained dogs in Asheville, North Carolina.

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This guy I used to date woke up once and said to me, “Man, I had the weirdest dream last night.” And I immediately thought: How can I flee? Or feign sleep? Or gnaw my arm off to escape because, seriously? Listening to people talk animatedly about their dreams is right up there with having my third grader explain the ever-shifting “rules” to the Harry Potter game they play at recess. I occasionally flick my eyes in her direction while I power through the morning lunch-making assembly line, uttering affirmative noises from time to time to mask my inattention, and I am always busted by failing to answer some question that would have required me to listen. So I say, “Oh, I thought that was rhetorical.” Which used to work, but now she knows what a rhetorical question is. I lose.

Anyway, this boyfriend is all “Yeah, I was sitting on the steps out front, by the sidewalk, and I was peeling an orange.”

And THAT’S IT. That was the dream.

So of course I broke up with him immediately because clearly he had no inner life. Or else I dated him for another year until he obviously no longer had any interest in me but still I kept clinging to him because my life would otherwise have no meaning and then he broke my heart. It escapes me now exactly how that all played out.

And then, this week, I realized that I HAVE BECOME THAT DUDE. My dreams are so pedestrian that I don’t even deserve REM sleep anymore. Actual dreams I have recently had:

• Stephen Colbert becomes my friend and can’t believe I am the same age as him because I look so youthful.

• Variation No. 1: I am in the studio audience of The Colbert Report when he points this out.

• Variation No. 2: Jon Stewart is on the show that night and also expresses his surprise at my age because I look so youthful.

I know. I can’t imagine what these dreams mean either. I need some serious Jungian analysis to sort this shit out. It couldn’t possibly mean that I’m (gasp) . . .  SHALLOW?

Certainly I’m not obsessed with famous people. Me? I never daydream about sitting down on the talk show couches for my big book tour. I never plan out my light banter with the hosts and imagine how I will charm the audience with my off-the-cuff witty stories. That would be so junior high. I mean, it’s not like I’m a teen girl screaming for David Cassidy or whoever’s all the rage these days. (Is it Leif Garrett now? I lose track.)

Nor, clearly, am I preoccupied with my looming 47th birthday. I’m totally comfortable with the “eleven”-shaped vertical creases between my brows that no longer only appear when I’m pissed. I never surf the web and price out Botox injections, then wonder which of my kids’ after-school activities I could throw in the crapper in order to afford them. And the self-facelift? Where you painfully yank your skin back into your hairline with your index fingers? Nope. I’m not familiar with that.

Oh, no. I’m embracing this next stage of life. I’m all an-old-woman-wearing-purple and telling it like it is. I’m down with this aging thing.

But that Porcelana cream to lighten age spots that they used to advertise during All My Children? Suddenly that shit looks like the bomb.

I mean, I know growing older is a privilege, the 40s are the new 30s, it’s never too late, blah, blah, blah. I just always thought I would be so much cooler about it, all “I earned these motherfucking wrinkles!” and “These gray hairs tell stories of hardship and woe, people!”

Instead, I’m dreaming about famous people validating my youthfulness, like a desperate housewife, but lacking in the funds to do any “maintenance.”

So here’s my plan. I keep acting like I’m twelve forever. Because God knows, I’ve got that down pat. That’s staring age in the face and laughing at it, right? Certainly it’s not just immature, is it? Nah. Plus, I’m pretty sure a juvenile-acting pushing-50 lady is just the sort person to fill the BFF-shaped hole in Stephen Colbert’s life.

Follow Cindy’s blog HERE.

Follow Cindy on Twitter HERE.

Follow her on Facebook HERE.

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  • http://saalon.myopenid.com/ Eric Sipple

    I’ve been up for less an hour, part of me wants to stab the world for making me be up at all, yet you still made me laugh out loud. A lot. Danke.

    • http://www.reedstserspeaks.com/ Cindy-The Reedster Speaks

       Thanks Eric for always being so supportive of my posts!

  • http://level343.com/article_archive/ SEOcopy

    Hahaha very funny…but then again I’m 51 soon to be 52 & don’t feel a day over 15 ;)

    • http://www.reedstserspeaks.com/ Cindy-The Reedster Speaks

       And  yet I always thought my parents were so mature. Either they were, or they were a lot better at passing as grownups than our generation is.

  • http://singedwingangelspad.com/ Angel Shrout

    I gave up caring about it a while ago. I figure I am blessed with every day I am here with my family. But I may or may not have totally done a few of those things, that don’t require surgery of course.

    • http://www.reedstserspeaks.com/ Cindy-The Reedster Speaks

       Right. Because we could get all judgmental and shit about the surgery stuff :)

  • http://twitter.com/sellabitmum Tracy Morrison

    As a woman who is also comfortably in her 40′s I also act 12. Thank god to know it’s not just me. I also like to pretend that 29 year old men could still be hot for me..but my number 11 gives me away.  Love this! xo

    • http://www.reedstserspeaks.com/ Cindy-The Reedster Speaks

       Cougar power.

  • Sherry Carr-Smith

    You don’t act a day over 25. I mean look! You don’t look a day over 25.

    • http://www.reedstserspeaks.com/ Cindy-The Reedster Speaks

       OR BOTH.

  • http://amandamagee.com amandamagee

    I think so much of it seems excruciating, but damn if I don’t like the willingness to just lay it out there that seems to come with each year.

    • http://www.reedstserspeaks.com/ Cindy-The Reedster Speaks

       Yeah, the not giving a shit happened around age 41…

  • Katie Locke

    Twelve.. bahahahahaha  I see you on the deck at school.. those Omega kids have a whole lot of maturity on us!

    • http://www.reedstserspeaks.com/ Cindy-The Reedster Speaks

       Yes, that is clear.

  • http://www.cannibalisticnerd.com/ Carrie – Cannibalistic Nerd

    I for one loved hearing about all of those dreams – they were short and succinct. And yours were hilarious. 

    • http://www.reedstserspeaks.com/ Cindy-The Reedster Speaks

       Thanks Carrie for following me over here to read. Even if I didn’t win the awesome shells playing poker prize on your blog.

  • http://twitter.com/ashleytaylor76 The Dose of Reality

    As someone who frequently dreams about celebrities it is just further confirmation of your awesomeness to me. And having met you, I swear you do not look a day over 37.

    • http://www.reedstserspeaks.com/ Cindy-The Reedster Speaks

      Aw, thanks Ash!

  • http://lovelinkin.com Erica M

    Holeup. Winning yeah write made it into the author’s bio? I am, for once, speechless and all crazed-looking at the same time. Thanks to you both for being so supportive of and enthusiastic about the yeah write community.

    I keep having dreams about Beyonce. They’ve been going on so long, I’m embarrassed when I wake up.

    • http://www.reedstserspeaks.com/ Cindy-The Reedster Speaks

       I am sooo proud of my Yeah Write notices! I used to also have dreams that I was friends with the “Friends.” So don’t be too embarrassed by Beyonce.

  • http://www.facebook.com/shvaygshosh Shoshana Martyniak

    Before I even finished, I was like, “OMG, I’m totally the boyfriend in this scenario…”

    • http://www.reedstserspeaks.com/ Cindy-The Reedster Speaks

      You dream of peeling tropical fruits?

  • http://twitter.com/50peach fiftyshadesofpeach

    Heart me some Reedster. I think you could make a boll weevil funny. Seriously.  Well done! :) 

    • http://www.reedstserspeaks.com/ Cindy-The Reedster Speaks

       Thanks!!

  • Greta @gfunkified

    Do you know what I’m excited about with getting older? The whole, you can say whatever you want because you’re old thing.

    I had a professor in college who let her dye job grow out. By the end of the semester, her gray roots were six inches long. THAT is embracing your age.

    But your plan is probably less embarrassing.

    • http://www.reedstserspeaks.com/ Cindy-The Reedster Speaks

       Oh The Funk, that will be me when I run out of money for the dye job soon enough…

  • Shannon Vander Meulen

    Youth is wasted on the young. When I was 15 I tried so hard to act older. I think I prefer mature and pretending I’m immature – much more fun. 

    • http://www.reedstserspeaks.com/ Cindy-The Reedster Speaks

       That’s my story and I’m sticking to it too :)

  • http://twitter.com/KeAnne KeAnne

    Cindy told me that I would identify with this post :-)  We finally met in person at Type-A Conference a month ago and either I look really bad for my age or she looks really good for hers because she thought we were the same age.  I’m 34 :-)

    • http://www.reedstserspeaks.com/ Cindy-The Reedster Speaks

      I SAID I WAS SORRY! Sort of. And then I mocked you about it for the rest of the conference. And beyond. Um, sorry.

      • http://twitter.com/KeAnne KeAnne

         Yep, still mocking me ;-)