Pushin’ Forty

Please enjoy my new hashtag sensation: #PushinForty. Use it to tag things like when for your birthday your husband fixes your broken sock drawer with wood glue and you are so sincerely excited when you say it is “the best birthday ever.” Or for example if you find yourself 12 browser-tabs deep in retinol cream research. Or if you realize you are using an extended original Nintendo metaphor to try to explain something to your classroom full of people who were somehow born in 1998 and they are all roaring with affectionate laughter at your expense. Or when you realize how much you repeat yourself on your blog. Or when you realize you have a blog.

In classic #PushinForty news, I just got a haircut that I saw on an Eileen Fisher model. I brought the picture (i.e., the Eileen Fisher advertisement) in to my friend who does my hair and I was like “I don’t care, give it to me.” She said it would look good on me and guess what, it does suckers. Then I decided that on my fiftieth birthday I’m gonna go to Eileen Fisher and drop $6,000 and update my entire wardrobe overnight into nothing but classy drapey linens and silks. Just like easing into decrepitude in a classy and expensive way, with breathable fabrics you can only wear like twice before they get ruined by your sweatstains. I think old ladies stop sweating though, so there’s that. Is it because they stop caring/being nervous or is it the body breaking down? Time will tell. Either way I’m all for it. I have no problem believing I will be one of these ladies who says menopause was the best thing that ever happened to them, because of the goddess and dream catchers and getting in touch with their chi. I am like a HAIR’S BREADTH away from being that way already. Sign me up for the silent yoga retreat and let me at it! (my mortality)

My friend Sasha, after I told her about the Eileen Fisher plan, informed me that when SHE turns fifty she’s going full bleached-blonde buzzcut and hot pink lipstick. Like Florida Old Lady vs. Laurie Anderson. When we get down to it, I am torn, because both are great options. Also both can involve blazers! So far apart, yet so close…

I also need to do something about my gentle blonde mustache, in case you were wondering. Yes, even we dwarfish pale-skinned gnome creatures develop unwanted facial hair. It’s mostly fine but sometimes I catch it glinting in the light and it just sort of creeps me out. Or like I find myself unconsciously stroking it when lost in thought, like Socrates. I am not a super vain person but this is not a great look for a lady who already struggles with androgynous tendencies and attributes. My husband keeps laughing about how I “look like an old man.” Specifically he thinks I look like George Burns. He’s not really wrong, either, and I’m man enough to admit it. So re: the mustache, it’s like, I’ve got enough problems, you know? This is why “threading” is in my google history, in case I die and such things become embarrassingly public somehow. The modern equivalent of being worried the paramedics will see your dirty underwear is being worried about what your family will think of your google history. Live every day as if it is your last: CLEAR CACHE

In the interest of full disclosure, here are some of my recent google searches:
– women’s headphones
– headphones woman tiny head
– gin rummy rules
– gin vs. gin rummy??
– gin card game
– zimmerman wife
– academy blazer gap ebay
– ariel castro
– good butt exercises
– rashida jones
– zucchini bread

While waiting for my haircut I ripped a recipe for making your own yogurt out of Bust magazine.

I guess basically what I’m saying is that I am doing really well in my life.

In other news, it is indeed Friday and you better BELIEVE I am getting a large wine when I get home