Is 40 Going to Blow or Rock?

Today I'm 40.  Or Thirty-Ten.  Or 39+1.  Or whatever it is we say now to hold off saying Four Oh.

I'm not a vain person, but I'm not gonna lie, 40 is a tough one for me to swallow.  I think I look “OK” for 40.  I'm not too wrinkled and hair dye keeps my grays under control.  I'm definitely saggier than I once was and I have aches and pains that don't go away as easily as they used to.  I'm never going to get carded again unless it's a really dark bar, but all in all, I think I've held up pretty well.

No, for me it's not a vanity thing, it's a “What have I accomplished?” thing.

Looking back at my 20-something self I had plans.  I can't say that I haven't accomplished the goals I set for myself.  Because I always set the bar pretty low, I typically accomplish my goals.  I just don't tend to knock them out of park.  (Shocker.)

Let's see:

1. Graduate from college.  I did that.  OK, barely.  I am a complete and total loss when it comes to Math. I have been my entire life.  If there is a dyslexia for Math I'm certain that I have it.  I see numbers and my entire brain shuts down.  It might as well be Latin - actually Latin might be easier. In college I was an English major and I needed one semester of Math to graduate.  I tried my Freshman year and I failed the class. 
   
   
   I have a brother who is 4 years younger than me and he rocks Math.  When we were kids on roadtrips, he and my dad would play a game called: “What's the square root of the license plate in front of us?”  My mom and I would play “I Spy" - I was 15 at the time. 
   
   
   I knew that if I took an extra semester at the end of my 4 years, my brother would be at school with me and he could tutor me and help me pass.  Between my brother helping me and my amazing professor letting me do just about everything he could for extra credit I passed Math.  (Get your minds out of the gutter, people.  When I say "extra credit" I truly mean it.  He even let me write a research paper about Euclid or someone.)  When I walked across the stage at graduation my Math professor actually came on stage and hugged me.
   
   
2. Live in New York City.  I did that too.  I moved to New York City when I was 25.  I had been fired from my job and I was looking for someplace to “reinvent” myself. I'd “met” the Hubs and he lived in NYC so I thought I'd at least have a sucker to take me to TGIFriday's occasionally.  
   
   
   Getting fired from a job was never on my list of accomplishments, but I guess I'm OK with it since it led me to NYC and the Hubs.  Let this be a lesson to you, young people:  getting fired is not the end of the world.  Just pull yourself up and keep moving forward.
   
   
3. Work for a magazine.  I did that when I lived in NYC.  I was actually just a temp though. It was a little bit like The Devil Wears Prada only I worked in the dungeons instead of the executive offices, but I was surrounded by those tall, willowy girls in clacker shoes.  The magazine offered me a job in the dungeons (there was no way I was fit for prime time since I wore sensible shoes and didn't know the difference between a Birkin and a Balenciaga).  They were willing to hire me, because I had a good “Midwest work ethic,” but I was horrified by what they were willing to pay me.  I could not have paid my rent working there, let alone buy the new Louis Vuitton bag I was expected to carry.  Instead I got a job at a private equity bank where dark suits and Coach bags ruled.  Cha-ching and much more my style!
   
   
4. Have a kick ass apartment in New York City.  This one I'm going to have to stretch my definition of "kick ass" a bit.  At the time this meant any cute, girl next door kind of apartment you see in chick flick movies.  The heroine is usually a quirky florist or a plucky bookseller and she lives in an awesome, small, but well planned out space with a private garden out back or a roof top deck.  Think:  "Where would Meg Ryan's character live if she was making a movie about a Midwestern girl full of moxie who moves to Manhattan, gets the job, gets the guy and never compromises herself or her beliefs?"  Yeah, that's where I thought I'd live (and I thought that by living there I'd magically look like Meg Ryan).  I quickly found out that while these apartments do exist, a bookseller or a florist could never afford them. Instead I became part of the “bridge and tunnel” crowd.  Think:  "Where do Snooki's parents live?" 
   
   
   I lived in Queens (at least I was close to the Hubs) and I commuted into Manhattan every day from my spacious yet dingy, un-air conditioned, and loud (I lived one block from an extremely active firehouse) apartment with a bathroom that had not been remodeled since...ever.  It was still the original pre-War bathroom with one outlet.  In the light socket.  Above the sink.  I took my life in my hands every time I blow dried my hair.  
   
   
   Don't be confused, there were some serious kick ass qualities: it really was spacious with 4 closets (!!), eat in kitchen, elevator in the building, and one block from the express subway to Manhattan.

5. Get married.  Done!  Lots of young women have extensive lists of what they're looking for in a mate.  Things like: Must have a good job, Can't live in his parent's basement, Must be a good dancer and so on.  Good thing for me I didn't have such a list or else I might not have ended up with the Hubs.  When I met him he was temping, he lived in his parent's basement and he can't dance for shit.
   
   
   Really, there were only two things on my list.  Funny was the top of my list.  If he couldn't make a joke or take a joke then he was out.  I also wanted a husband who would love me for me. I'm a little tough to love and you'd be surprised how many guys don't get my sense of humor (that was sarcasm for the slower readers), so it took me a couple more years than the average girl to find a guy.
   
   
   When I met the Hubs we were both trying to figure out what to do with our lives and lucky for us we supported one another and motivated one another and helped each get our shit together and we still do that.
   
   
6. Have kids.  At one point in my young life I thought it would be great to have a gaggle of kids.  I didn't start having babies until I was in my thirties and I quickly realized “two” could be considered a small gaggle.  It would have to do.  I didn't have the stamina for more than two or enough room on my credit card.  I enjoy my sleep way too much and I have a shopping addiction when it comes to expensive tiny clothes.  We got our boy and our girl and we called it good.

7. Have a job I love.  I've had a few jobs in my lifetime.  Some of them outright sucked.  Like when I was a professional Proofreader – betcha didn't even know this job existed – and my job was to correct contracts with a red pen.  Only Proofreaders could have the coveted red pens and you had to bring ID to the supply room to show you were a Proofreader and then they'd let you “check” ONE out.  That's right.  You didn't "own" that pen.  It was not allowed to leave the building.  When your pen ran out and you needed another, you had to bring the empty with you. 
   
   
   Once my red pen was stolen by someone who made twice (actually, now that I think about it, I bet he made 3x) as much money as me.  Because he didn't have the proper papers to show he was red pen worthy, the Gestapo in the supply room wouldn't give him a red pen, so he stole mine.  It was hell to get another one and I never let it out of my sight again.  Damn the rules!  I took that pen home with me every night just to protect it from thieves.  
   
   
   After a few years of stimulating jobs like this or being someone's bitch, I left the corporate world behind to work for myself.  I love my job now. Selling houses is a great job (no matter what the market is doing) and I'm so happy to go to work every day.  Plus, just out of spite, I keep boxes of red pens in my desk to use willy-nilly. 

8. Travel the world.  Before I was married I did a lot of traveling, but not the “whole world," of course.  I've been able to mark a few great cities off my list, but there are still more.  I keep telling myself that once the kids are grown the Hubs and I will work harder at this goal.  I just hope we don't wait so long that we're too old and we're touring Greece in matching Rascals!

9. Be a writer.  When I came up with this one in my twenties it mostly meant “get published” somewhere.  Anywhere.  I wanted to see a byline with my name on it and know that at least one another person besides my mother read it.  I really thought it would be fiction, though.  Who knew that I'd write so much non-fiction?  It only took 39 years, but I finally found an audience who likes to read what I have to write.  Phew!  This was one was close!  Thanks for reading so I didn't have to stick my head in an oven this year!

10. Write AND publish a book. I've modified this one. It used to be “write a book.” Now that I know I have the desire and the ambition to actually write (and finish a book), I've realized the hard part is getting it published. That will be my goal for my Thirty-Tens.

OK, after reading this list, I've decided I haven't done that bad.  I have a few more things left I want to accomplish, but hopefully I'm only at the mid-point of my life so I've still got plenty of time.  I just hope the next 40 don't go by as fast as the last 40!


I'm going to go out on a limb here and say Forty Rocks!  


PS - The Circleofmoms.com Top 25 Funniest Mom Blogs Contest is over!  Thank you so much for voting for me.  I made the list along with some hysterical other blogs. What a nice birthday present!  Please check out all of them if you get some free time.


Photos: bedifferentactnormal.com