Getting old is a crazy, weird thing. I'm halfway through my life. I regret not doing all sorts of things with my body when I could...More exercise, more running, hiking, swimming, without feeling knees creak and be out of breath. I regret looking so different now, but feeling like the same person I was in my 20's. Know you understand body dysphoria- the outside doesn't match the inside.
Being unmarried and single doesn't help. When I drive down the street, my head will jerk around for a cute guy walking down the street... then I realize I'm old enough to be his Mom. There's a crazy new mix of chemicals that happens at this age. You don't need sex constantly, but you're old enough to own up to your lechery. I hate the term "cougar," and I seriously couldn't fathom dating anyone under 30 (Demi and Ashton?) but I so totally lust for the body, energy and youth that comes with a young guy. And I miss my nubile body. Let's not go there. I've entered that new demographic- the invisible, at least to guys younger than me. (And shit, most guys my age! I live in fucking Hollywood... there's always something better, hotter and younger around the corner.)
And I remind myself that I should set my sights differently... I'm also looking at men in their 50's. The Viagra Guy with the cool car is looking good. Get used to it. That's who you should be dating, I tell myself!
I own up to my lechery... and I have to own up to being old.
Cougar Alert: I have no idea where I got this pic...hell, I stole it. Off the internet. Just like you do. We're fast becoming an Idiocracy of pictures, no words. I used to love 2-dimensional images and had serious scopafilia. I wanted to be a photographer. Now we are a nation of Tumblrs and tiny pics on a mobile device- not text. I can't even write anymore like I used to!! My brain is going to atrophy... but all my visual stimulation needs are met! Hurray!
Amid his junked up tattoos I see "1987..." aw sheesh. I sure hope that wasn't the year he was born!!!!
Reading: "The Zombie Survival Guide: Recorded Attacks," by Max Brooks; just finished "Mockingjay" by Suzanne Collins
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