January 21, 2005

Girls. They Wanna Have Fun

What is there about a group of genetically superior [read: Female here] people getting together over drinks after the age of 30? We want to have fun. Desperately crave it, but invariably one of us has to check on the kids, make sure our husband hasn't fallen in the toilet and/or make certain that the big-boned pigdog has been properly poopified. It's the ever looming specter of responsibility that hangs over our ovaries. It’s the “breaking the seal” that we hope never happens. We are constantly caretaking even when we don't want to.

We should have known it was coming. Back in the day, we took care of each other. We made sure that each other's hair stayed out of the vomit-filled toilet, no one walked a tab, no one drove “too” drunk, and asshole ex’s were always vilified. Now, we take care of families and clients and errant pets in collusion with the local upholsterer.

I long for the days of being able to go on a 3 day beer run to neighboring states with full-penetration porn, tattoo parlors and 6 point domestic longnecks. I am forlorn at the prospect of never getting to wake up somewhere I am not supposed to be (or recognize) again. It used to be that when one of us had a far away look in our eyes, we were silently reliving the night before or were just enjoying a good buzz. Now, it’s worrying if there’s time to get through all of the laundry and clean out the garden before Spring.

We no longer tell each other the things that really haunt us. The loss of youth, the dreams that will never happen, lovers we’ll never have, motions that may be denied, clients who may never pay and the horrifying concept that in some ways- actually in many ways we have failed.

But mostly, I wish I just had the time to hang with my buds with no need to think about the silent alarm bells going off in each other’s heads as we politely catch up on each other’s less scintillating love lives and fewer and far less reaching dreams.
I wish I didn’t know what was really behind their far-away looks now.

2 Comments:

Blogger John Holt said...

Girl....you can come on over to the East side and enjoy all the domestic porn and full penetration long necks (or was it the other way round?) you'll ever need or want for. I am a bastion of irresponsibility, an ambassador of clever procrastination by way of inbriation and vice. Should you ever long for the days of yore, just pick up that minivan and come on down.

smiles,
k

10:17 AM  
Blogger MJ said...

I'll tell you, my friends aged 30-40 (one just turned 40, but you'd never know it) are the wildest group of women I know. They drag my ass allllll over L.A., allllll night long, finally parting ways in the not-so-wee hours and often in the company of hot young conquests. Giggling together the next afternoon, we compare notes over hungover brunches or excitedly probing phone calls. Sure, such adventures are relegated to weekends because of the age-related, extended necessary recovery time, but the advantage you 30+ have over us girls in our 20's is that you know yourselves far better. Therefore you know your boundaries to a T, know exactly where to go and what to do for maximum kicks, and can wake up with absolutely no regrets. I love running around with older women.

7:14 PM  

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