Honey Peach Fritters / Old Fruit

They say grow old gracefully. I say screw that. I’m going kicking and fighting. I am not becoming invisible. 

We all think it won’t happen to us. How many men say, “I didn’t think I would make it  to 25.” Really Dude? Are you really living that hard? First off, drinking with your buddies in bars and doing the occasional narcotic is not the “rock n roll die in your 20’s” lifestyle. You are literally living the same life as 80% of your kind. My ex-husband used to say this all the time and then show me a picture of his frat brothers to see the crazy. Hmm… who’s the craziest? The one in the pink polo or the guy that said, “f’ it! Today I won’t wear boat shoes?” Go talk to Keith Richards and get back to me. I bet that man did more in 1 day than you did in your entire 20’s. 

Women, I swear we just get pre-occupied. One day you are sitting at a bar with your friends and the next, one of you is working 60 hours a week, hoping to not see another human being on you way home and the other one is pushing one baby in a stroller while praying the new born you have strapped to your chest is not about to unleash the thunderous fury of liquids down the front of your pants. (All Moms know those ominous sounds of the soon to be unleashed.)

Youth recedes and weariness grows. Our bloated 20 year old dreams fade and in seconds we are 40 wondering who turned the hands on the clock. Half the time I want to disappear but that other half, that little spark left in me says, “Hell No! Light it all on fire!” Let them see my flames. I will not go down without a fight. I will just wear brighter colors and use a louder voice. No longer am I the cute, perky, 20 year old, but I’ll be damned if that means its the end.

I will let my bingo arms flap in the wind. I will wear my wrinkles inside and out with pride. Let those grey hairs shine in the sun (thats a lie, I am not ready for all that yet). All those cute 20 year olds with their weirdly perfect Instagram pictures ( who is that matched and clean on a road trip) they need to see us. If for no other reason than to realize, when they get older, they don’t have to fade into the background.

Yes, everything is shiny and polished now. All those poses and filters. What a hard thing you are setting yourself up for. I have no Instagram pics to look back too. I have memories and crappy pictures. So when I think about road trips I thing of stinky cars, inappropriate inside jokes, stopping in a desert to camp when we haven’t showered in a week and smelling of fast food, cigarettes and booze. I will always remember it fondly and when I go on trips now there is less drinking and partying but just as many laughs. In my mind I am still that girl because you know what?  I am. My age gave me responsibilities and extra soft parts but it did not take away my core. I would still jump in car for a last minute minute road trip. Albeit after making sure my appointments are covered, babysitter is set up and I have the proper back support. 

I will also giggle uncontrollably with my friends and venture into the unknown. Don’t confuse my soft parts and wrinkles for stagnation. Some things have gone and I am glad to see them go.  I have learned that making stories with fellow travelers or  finding a strange dome to camp under are lot more important than that cute boy in the corner. I’d rather travel with the band then date it. Youth is not wasted on the young, it is the way it should be. I had my reckless time and I loved it. Which leads to me appreciating this stage. We shower now, drink proper drinks till we get tired and know it’s not so romantic to camp in the desert with a scorpion threatening your ass. We are not invisible we just don’t give a shit about the little stuff anymore. So here I am spare tire and all, you can see me and if you can’t see me, there is no way you can’t hear me.

Honey Peach Fritters.numbers
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