I have written a serious one. It lacks the visceral horror of a chicken crawling with staphylococcus, and I figured you'd be happy about that; still, it's not the usual devil may care, mis-punctuated mess you see here.
Suffer.
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Now I'm ready to crawl back out of my ass, stop isolating, and rejoin the world of people made of meat.
The ones you see in cars and stores that you can touch, if you want, but you shouldn't.
Them.
One of the realizations I had while I was rebuilding myself as an old woman was: I'm really peculiar.
Also: When it comes to real people made of meat, I only want fond acquaintances, not bosom friends. Not right now.
Maybe not ever.
____________________________________________
People seem to have a set way they deal with little old ladies. I've discovered that as long as I keep on twinkling, I'm the sweetheart of Sigma Elderly. Doors are held for me, beers are comped, flirting is done (and it's really ridiculous and uncomfortable, cis men, so please stop) and kindly allowances are made.
And I have learned how to negotiate this. As long as I'm not holding up a process or getting in the way; as long as I restrict myself to a very restrained version of 'Feisty Old Lady' I am coddled. I become a mascot. I've been a mascot in every pot shop I've ever patronized, in fact, and it kind of rules, to be honest. They give you free shit.
But that isn't real.
I want friends. People who hang out with you in your neighborhood, that you can make coffee for.
The ones you see in cars and stores that you can touch, if you want, but you shouldn't.
Them.
One of the realizations I had while I was rebuilding myself as an old woman was: I'm really peculiar.
Also: When it comes to real people made of meat, I only want fond acquaintances, not bosom friends. Not right now.
Maybe not ever.
____________________________________________
People seem to have a set way they deal with little old ladies. I've discovered that as long as I keep on twinkling, I'm the sweetheart of Sigma Elderly. Doors are held for me, beers are comped, flirting is done (and it's really ridiculous and uncomfortable, cis men, so please stop) and kindly allowances are made.
And I have learned how to negotiate this. As long as I'm not holding up a process or getting in the way; as long as I restrict myself to a very restrained version of 'Feisty Old Lady' I am coddled. I become a mascot. I've been a mascot in every pot shop I've ever patronized, in fact, and it kind of rules, to be honest. They give you free shit.
But that isn't real.
I want friends. People who hang out with you in your neighborhood, that you can make coffee for.
I'd love to know someone who could offer me good conversation. Someone who can brainstorm a subject, who gets carried away by crazes, who can tell me new things and laugh.
Now me, of course, I'm overfuckingloaded with good conversation. Are you looking for someone who can offer you good conversation? Step right the fuck up. I am interesting as hell! I know lots of shit! I am your ultimate Trivia Night team member!
And that's half my problem, is that I like so many things, and that so many things are so interesting and tremendous and overwhelming to me that I have to fight down the urge to barf it all over my interlocuter, and I fail, and that person panics and leaps through the nearest window to their death.
And who can blame them?
________________________________________________________
Then there are the Senior Moments.
You get comfortable living with yourself. You lay aside all the posturing and signaling you had to learn as an adult person. Now you are an old person. So you relax.
You scratch where it itches.
Not a whole lot phases you, or surprises you, so you come off as stolid. But it's just that you've been there and done that and the lesson is learned. Someone tells me about how flamboyantly their love life has been destroyed, and you go 'Yup..................." because, well, yup.
You get lost deep in contemplation. You fall into a flow state and narrate your adventures aloud as they happen. In one recent senior episode I was contemplating the error of all flesh in a particular location, and I said aloud 'Yeah RIGHT, you cheating goddamn fuck,' and tottered on, leaving a very confused girl in kitty cat glasses in my wake.
It's really like this.
I am the unnerving old lady with resting bitch face that I used to dread when I was young.
I am that old person now.
Shit.
___________________________________________
So tell me, my friends. What's it been like for you? And feel free to write long replies, or make a post about it, because I am intensely interested in your answers.
Some of you are social butterflies. Some of you are recluses. Some of you are out there living it as real as you can day by day. Have you noticed the shift? Have you noticed the way the world grows older but you stay the same?
What do you do to make friends these days?
And for God's sake don't tell me 'Well I don't know, I just go about my day, I've never noticed a thing' because COME THE FUCK ON PEOPLE.
____________________________________________
(OK fine. If there are any young people here, which....damn...but if there are any of you, just hang back. THIS IS YOUR FUTURE CUPCAKE)
Now me, of course, I'm overfuckingloaded with good conversation. Are you looking for someone who can offer you good conversation? Step right the fuck up. I am interesting as hell! I know lots of shit! I am your ultimate Trivia Night team member!
And that's half my problem, is that I like so many things, and that so many things are so interesting and tremendous and overwhelming to me that I have to fight down the urge to barf it all over my interlocuter, and I fail, and that person panics and leaps through the nearest window to their death.
And who can blame them?
________________________________________________________
Then there are the Senior Moments.
You get comfortable living with yourself. You lay aside all the posturing and signaling you had to learn as an adult person. Now you are an old person. So you relax.
You scratch where it itches.
Not a whole lot phases you, or surprises you, so you come off as stolid. But it's just that you've been there and done that and the lesson is learned. Someone tells me about how flamboyantly their love life has been destroyed, and you go 'Yup..................." because, well, yup.
You get lost deep in contemplation. You fall into a flow state and narrate your adventures aloud as they happen. In one recent senior episode I was contemplating the error of all flesh in a particular location, and I said aloud 'Yeah RIGHT, you cheating goddamn fuck,' and tottered on, leaving a very confused girl in kitty cat glasses in my wake.
It's really like this.
I am the unnerving old lady with resting bitch face that I used to dread when I was young.
I am that old person now.
Shit.
___________________________________________
So tell me, my friends. What's it been like for you? And feel free to write long replies, or make a post about it, because I am intensely interested in your answers.
Some of you are social butterflies. Some of you are recluses. Some of you are out there living it as real as you can day by day. Have you noticed the shift? Have you noticed the way the world grows older but you stay the same?
What do you do to make friends these days?
And for God's sake don't tell me 'Well I don't know, I just go about my day, I've never noticed a thing' because COME THE FUCK ON PEOPLE.
____________________________________________
(OK fine. If there are any young people here, which....damn...but if there are any of you, just hang back. THIS IS YOUR FUTURE CUPCAKE)
I feel you, sister. I am perfectly fine being alone and I also take comfort in the idea that as an old man in a gay neighborhood, I am essentially invisible. I don't have to shoot for being hot; clean is the only goal I have to aim for.
ReplyDeleteAs an grumpy old lady myself I empathize and if it is remote affection you require I can send that by the cartload and never become over friendly.
ReplyDeleteIt could be worse, you could be an Old Man, which is similar but less fun