Remember that SNL character Sally O’Malley? “I’m Fifty years-old and I can kick!” Well, I’m fifty-one and I’m ready to do some kickin’, too!
“Why don’t you like me?” I actually heard a girl say that to another girl in the Walmart checkout line. The other girl replied, “Um… because, like, you’re an asshole.” I laughed, yep, I sure did. Then I thought about it a while and came to realize that I don’t like assholes either and I’m tired of pretending to like them. Why have I wasted so much of my precious time pretending to like assholes? I’m not going to do it anymore. So, Assholes of the World, be forewarned.
I think it has something to do with aging. Or menopause. Or both. But I don’t have time anymore for things I don’t like or don’t want to do. If I don’t like a book I’m reading, I don’t force myself to finish it like I used to. I put it down and get another book. Life’s too short. I don’t have time to waste. Don’t like that movie? Turn the freakin’ channel! Somebody being an asshat? Walk away!
As I get older I also have realized that I spent far too much of my youth agonizing over my weight. I have spent countless hours worrying about my butt, looking at my butt, dieting my butt, working out my butt, crying over my butt, or talking about my butt. My butt was the centerpiece of my life. If I could have all those butt hours back I could’ve written five more books! From now on, my butt is there and I’m not going to worry about it anymore. You don’t like my butt, don’t look at it.
I don’t care what you think. I really don’t. You can think my butt’s too big, you can write a nasty review about my book, you can roll your eyes at me, you can laugh at my hair, and I don’t care.
I’m invisible. I really am. Any woman over the age of fifty can tell you that’s the truth. Nobody sees you anymore. It’s true. Which actually is a lot of fun. I’m so invisible, being both over fifty and a lesbian, that I can do damn near anything and get by with it.
I’m still getting tattooes no matter how old I get. So what if I’m getting tattooes on a fifty year-old arm? People are quite fond of telling me, “What are you going to do when you get old and your tats sag?” Well, you know the fuck what? My arms are gonna sag regardless of tattooes. So shut the fuck up and let me be happy, okay?
My daughter just turned 13. Saxon and I took Emma out for her birthday dinner at her favorite Chinese restaurant. When I told our Chinese waitress that it was Emma’s birthday, she smiled, bowed and said in a thick Chinese accent, “May your birthday consumption be always surprises.”
I thought at first that the waitress was only speaking poor English. Then the more I thought about it, I decided she was speaking wise words. I hope Emma’s birthday consumptions are always surprises. I also hope that she doesn’t spend a full decade of her life worrying over the size of her butt or what other people think of her. I hope she’s never invisible.
Be like Sally O’Malley. Kick!