Mid-Life Crisis in the Making

A very dear friend of mine is turning 50*. She isn't the first person I've known to turn 50 so this shouldn't be a big deal. RIGHT?

Then why am I freakin' out? This is the question I've been asking myself for the last couple of days.

It might be wrapped up in the fact that Mike is going through a wee bit of "Who am I and why am I aging?" and joking** about buying a sports car with two seats, an outrageous insurance premium, and lousy gas mileage.

It might be that she is the first FEMALE to cross this hurdle line. My other really great, wisdom-filled girlfriend is just turning 49 this year. No affect on me at all.

Maybe it's the fact that I am hitting 45 in July. FORTY-FIVE. Argh. Nothing even remotely sexy about THAT.

But, somehow, regardless of how or why, courtesy of two little numbers that I'm not even turning this year, I'm losing my mind.

The list of things I could use, but refuse to subject myself to, is long: Botox, boob lift, liposuction. I'm kind of your resident "No pain = my gain" gal, so there is no way on the green Earth that I'm going to let some middle-aged guy put needles into my cheeks and lips or touch my children's early source of milk or use a vacuum cleaner to suck out the years of damage I've done to my thighs, stomach and rear.

This life is, to quote Pastor Ellis Orzoco, a "pernicious conundrum".*** Except, you can't get rid of the deadly part nor can you figure out the riddle.

Bummer.

So, since time is marching forward and I refuse to try to inject medical techniques to stop it, I'm just going to have to come to an uncomfortable impasse with my situation.

But, I can tell you one thing: I'm going to enjoy that birthday party, eat way too much Italian food and a huge piece of cake with, hopefully, more frosting than cake. And I'm going to celebrate the fact that my friend and I have many more years together before one of us moves to Heaven.

When I look at it that way? "Happy 50th Birthday" doesn't seem so bad after all.


*When I announced I was going to her girls-only fiftieth birthday party, he looked at me all googly eyes and said "NOOO! She is NOT 50. There is no way." I feel the same--she looks much younger than 50, and even though she is one of my personal sages and seems light years ahead me in the wisdom arena, I think she is timeless.

**Kinda, sorta, maybe/maybe not.

***I had no idea what this meant, I just wrote it down on my church bulletin cause I thought it sounded cool. And, look at me! I can use dictionary.com and incorporate it into today's writing. Thanks, brother Ellis!