Last week, I emailed my sister with my fears that I was hurling headfirst into an "almost 40" crisis because I have this overwhelming desire to put a streak of blue in my hair. Just a streak. (Remember Nancy from the first Nightmare on Elm Street movie? Like that, except blue. And preferably done in a salon and not as a reaction to being haunted by a crusty dude in horizontal stripes.) Here was her response:
Here’s the thing about turning 40 (even though you’re not there yet). 40 isn’t the new 30. 40 is “I’m 40, so I can do whatever the hell I want, and I don’t care what you think.”
I love this. I'm going to put in on a t-shirt. Tattoo it onto the inside of my hand. Sneak out at night and spray paint it on freeway overpasses. So, the following are a few things that I'm going to do. And since I'm (almost) 40, I can do whatever the hell I want and I don't care what you think. (Unless you think its cool. Then I’ll want to hug you and buy you ice cream.)
Put a streak of blue in my hair
Sing Total Eclipse of the Heart at a karaoke bar in Vegas (because every now and then I get a little bit terrified, but then I see the look in your eyes.)
Learn how to shoot a gun
Wear silly shirts, like this one, or this one
Take up roller derby*
Tell rude, inconsiderate people that they're being rude and inconsiderate**
Wear aforementioned blue streaked hair in braids and snap my bubble gum
Write a book based loosely on my experience with the douche knuckle who made my life hell in high school***
Get this tattooed on my back****
You were thinking you'd see far more exciting things, like skydiving and bungee jumping?
No. I'm a total wuss and am DEATHLY afraid of heights. You will never see me jumping off anything higher than the footstool in my kitchen. I'm fine with this. You should be, too.
*I say this with the caveat that I've spent the last 38 years of my life realizing that I do not belong on wheels. It's just one of those things. Wheels + me = not awesome. I tried to learn to rollerblade several years ago and I distinctly remember taking out my roommate. Like, PLOWING into her in the middle of the street and sending her into the bushes. But, since roller derby is about plowing into people, maybe it'll work out.
**Okay, I already do tell rude, inconsiderate people that they're being rude and inconsiderate, but often times I don't come off as mature as I’d like. My goal is to convey my disdain eloquently. Perhaps whilst sipping tea and wearing a flowery hat.
***This obviously isn't that controversial, but my "don't care" moment comes in when I hear people say things like, "Oh, the whole Y/A bully thing is so ten minutes ago". I. Don't. Care. It's a story I want to tell. If writers only write what they think is on trend, we'd have nothing out there but poo.
****I know, I know. My homegirl Circe has issues. And, yes, technically, she's poisoning the water. But I've always loved this picture. And I think it would be a very cool tattoo with all the blues.