On Being 42 + Other Crazy Shit: An Ode to My So Called Life
Today's high was marked at 65.
YASSS it was time. Time to pull out the start of my fall wardrobe. Climate change has made my favorite season different. Not as crisp, warmer for a lot longer, holy hornets EVERYWHERE. But today, today felt like fall. I grabbed an autumn colored flannel, leggings, and combat boots. I was living my very best Angela Chase angsty youth life. And yet..I'm 42.
It was exactly yesterday that Angela and Jordan held hands and made my entire social circle gasp in unison. It was exactly yesterday that I was arguing with my parents to let me go to Aveda so I could become an esthetician. It was exactly yesterday that I felt young.
But it wasn't. There has been a lifetime of yesterdays in between My So Called Life and me now playing the role of Patty Chase. I even cut my hair off too! It feels like centuries since I was in highschool. And why do you "grow up" when you're under 25 but "get older" after it? Aren't we always getting older since the day we are born? I digress.
42 feels weird. 40 was good. 41 sucked thanks to Covid and he who shall not be named. But 42 feels so...beige. Like it's fine but also just...beige. Plain and a total nothing burger. Sorta like 19 and 20. 18 and 21 being epic in the minds of a young person. Will the rest of my 40's feel this way until I turn 50? Is there a secret thing that happens each year I just haven't been made privvy to? Or do I need to create my own chaotically awesome 40s?
I'm on a quest for rituals to include in my routine to help make these flyover years more exciting. So I can show my teenage self why growing older is so much cooler than growing up.