Well, it was yesterday, to be exact. I was having dinner at Damon's, playing that nifty trivia game, when it happened. We were there to celebrate my cousin Zach's 21st birthday before he headed back to college. Between rounds 2 and 3, the guy with the microphone announced "Today we wish a Happy Birthday to Kristi Myers, who is 37 years old." Totally ruined my game. I came in fifth.
There it was. My younger cousins at the next table snickered, clearly enjoying my embarassment. It was then that I realized I had officially crossed over to the dark side.
What had happened? Just last year, my cousins, aged 15 to 25, laughed with me, sharing jokes and stories and talking music and fashion and boys. They came to to me for advice, and sometimes dropped by for dinner or the occasional "sleepover" with me and my little girl. With one sentence over the PA system, that had ended.
Now, I wasn't totally in denial or anything. Short of lying about my age on MySpace, I was well aware of my increasing age. My colorist was skilled at both lying to me about my gray hair and hiding it for me. And I was happy to pay her well for the service. I knew I was getting older, but for some reason "37" really got to me. Perhaps it was the way my hormones suddenly went all wonky, or how my once lightning-fast metabolism suddenly slowed to a crawl. Whatever it was, it really did me in. Thirty-seven has turned out to be worse than 30.
It was only a few months ago that I first noticed actual lines around my eyes and mouth. And all those fancy creams? They do NOT erase wrinkles. That is a lie concocted to seduce women out of their money. I know, because I have tried all the creams, gels and masks one can get at Sephora, and the lines remain.
There is an irony here, of course. I would much rather be 37, with all my knowledge and experience, than to be a clueless kid of 25 again. For me, 2009 presents an opportunity to grow my consulting business, work on my writing, and be a better Mom to my wonderful 6 year-old.
In conclusion: getting old sucks for sure. It is even worse when you are as vain as I am. But becoming wiser really rocks. But It's a damn shame I can't be wiser without the crow's feet and gray hair.
At least, that's what I told myself when I went to bed last night. But this morning, I found a WHITE HAIR sticking out of my head, bold as you please. Now that can't be good.