Blog-stalkers, breathe. PrissE is baaaaaaaack! It's been a loooooong time since we've talked, so naturally I've forgotten everything I have to tell you--after all, I am "almost" 40.
I've decided that "almost" 40 is a truly magical number.
Let me demonstrate:
Scenario % (that's right. since I'm almost 40, i don't have to use typical labels...like numbers. you should hop on my train of thought.) HA!! Too much too soon?? I'll go slower....
Scenario 2 (better?):
When my knowledge of Cher is being debated by my 7 year old, I say: I am almost 40 years old. I believe my knowledge pool is a few feet deeper than yours, dear 7 year old (i love summer. don't judge my metaphors).
Scenario 3:
Telling my parents I'm almost 40! Stop 'parenting' me. FYI: this is not a response for the week--or the flip-flop wearing. Almost 40 year old women in flip-flops may be able to run fast, but almost 66 year old dads can sometimes run faster.......
Scenario 4:
Feeling compelled to show off that big fancy college degree--the one I got back in 1993--when my supervisor of less than a week informs me that she'll "instruct" me on how to put a new liner in the giant plastic trash can. Let's just say that, did I not earn the appropriate degree to change trash can liners? is not the most accepted response to an offer of instruction. Stooooopid college degree.
Tonight, The Trophy Wives Minus One Club had dinner & movie night (because we do that whenever we get the chance, get a wild hair, or whenever we want). It was fantastic, like it always is--mad props to the gorgeous salad bowl at McCalisters!
And, I'm gonna go ahead and give some Golden Globe & Oscar nods to "The Help." FAN-FLIPPIN-TASTIC, this movie is!!!! And nobody's paying me to say it, either! It's just about the best movie I've seen in forever!
I laughed. I cried. I gave a few "witnesses" with some out loud 'Amens.' Even the heavy-nose-breather-man sitting next to me shed a few tears and laughed till I thought he might pass out. The movie was just that good.
And I even learned a lesson...a 'moral,' if you will: Tell the story.
Tell the story. Don't be afraid. Don't worry. You can change the names all you want. Just tell the story.
Tonight, I learned that I'm probably really not the "high society" snob in the hierarchy of life...I'm really more like "the help." I've got stories to tell. Some of them are difficult, and some of them make me laugh so hard I nearly cry. Some of them I've been afraid to tell. I didn't want to make anyone mad, hurt anyone's feelings, or rock certain boats. But guess what? Keeping my mouth shut and marching to another's beat was never really one of my "gifts."
Almost 40 has been a magical number. It's given me a feeling of almost freedom. I'm so close to that freedom my typing-fingers can almost touch it.
Yep.
I'm almost 40...................................but not for much longer..........
Saturday, August 20, 2011
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