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It's 7:35pm, and I expected to be having dinner at the Willy Street Fair mixed in with a little dancing to some club DJ's at the end of the street closed to the Wisconsin State Capitol. Instead, I'm home, 55 (my age now - who knew that'd ever happen? miles away from there. We left early because husband - not an insignificant number of years my senior - was achy from standing during most of the show - and had seen the one performer he'd wanted, and it was starting to drizzle anyway ( brief, but he was determined, and we drove together), so...
I feel like the need to be at the party until it's no longer a party - the desire to be counting among the "cool kids" that I've had since I was a nerdy, no-fashion sense, preteen who wanted to be where the fun was - is slamming against the grey hairs, the knees and hips doing things they didn't as recently as 45 or 50, ththe sexy [[human beings of appropriate gender]] no longer seeing anything that appealing when you walk past - I liked being cruised, checked out and objectified that way, really!! - and the dozing off in the daytime (which I did in the passenger side on the ride home, to cap things off poorly). Personally, I don't like feeling the impact of that collision.
I feel like the need to be at the party until it's no longer a party - the desire to be counting among the "cool kids" that I've had since I was a nerdy, no-fashion sense, preteen who wanted to be where the fun was - is slamming against the grey hairs, the knees and hips doing things they didn't as recently as 45 or 50, ththe sexy [[human beings of appropriate gender]] no longer seeing anything that appealing when you walk past - I liked being cruised, checked out and objectified that way, really!! - and the dozing off in the daytime (which I did in the passenger side on the ride home, to cap things off poorly). Personally, I don't like feeling the impact of that collision.
