My baby sister Bell turned 11 yesterday. We ran through her inventory of presents over the phone, between dinner + cake. I teased her about buying me lunch with her birthday takings. She surprised me by raving about my crafty card, which wouldn’t have made a blip on the radar last year. I got into trouble for mentioning her boyfriend… My boyfriend didn’t buy me a present Claire, cos we broke up. I’m a widow now.Everything’s so dramatic when you’re 11, + then even more so into your teens. What’s the peak age for drama? It’s gotta be teens I guess, but drama is pretty acceptable into your twenties. Everything is bright + shiny + new. Pain is sharper; love is more acute; passion is all consuming; life is largely undiscovered + confusing in so many ways. There are a thousand unanswered questions to contend with + a thousand pathways to consider traipsing down (+ then maybe back up, + then down again).
31 is not an age for drama. 31 is an age for acceptance + maturity. You’re supposed to have it sorted, in a rational sensible adult kinda way. There’s no expectation that you’ll freeze a friend out cos they pashed your boy, or die if you don’t have the right pair of jeans to wear on the weekend. There’s a distinct lack of drama. There’s little sense of adventure. And oh how boring that can be.
A boring song, currently on high rotation on the J’s, spells out this said same boring topic in a boring but catchy way: And now that she’s older, as the embers of romance fade to mortgages + leccy bills… nobody told her that she'd ever reach the stage where her husband bored her or she lied about her age. (Ahhh... pop wisdom.)
I don’t mean to sound old + jaded... too late, I know... but I am aware of the routineness that can creep into life during an off week. Those days when work is a drag + the thought of plugging away at it foreverafter sends me into mild conniptions. Those days when I could drop dead from the mind-numbing boredom of it all. Boredom + routine I reject you! I say OUT! I don't want to be bored or to see less + less value in things as time goes by. I don't want to surrender my naivety + openness. And I don't want to see it as my lot to do so just cos I'm not young anymore.
I say YES to the newness + mystery that permeated things when I was a kid. I say YES to a genuine passion for my own life that’s not slowly sucked away by the grind of work + chores + day-to-day. I say YES to die-hard romanticism + drama.
But don't worry... I won't dump you for lookin at me funny, or not wearing the right shoes, or not letting me be your farcespace friend.
5 comments:
ok but if you pash my boy, i will freeze you out.
Hey I forgot to quiz you today about who you pashed at the pub a few posts back
Haha. Love the way that the pashing bits are what make the impact!
Sarah - eeeeeew... I wouldn't pash your boy, that would be like pashing my brother... wrong. Besides, have you seen his farcespace photo?! (Just teasing, I actually quite like it.)
Tones - I haven't had a decent pashing story for months. (In fact I don't want to even *think* how long.) I had a minor grope on the dancefloor last Thursday night, but that was about as exciting as it sounds. Not very.
BELL IS 11!!! But I can remember when she was born. Now I'm feeling old.
I am very excited that for the first time the instructions for how to add a comment are in English (for some reason at my work they come up in Japanese, at least I think its Japanese), at last I know what all those buttons say rather than just randomly pressing orange and blue till my comments are posted.
i'll have you know that that farcespace photo was taken two days after we got married and i believe the term for that facial expression is marital bliss.
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