It's Just Wrong, Ladies

I like this birthday waaaay better than my own. Hey! Maybe I can quit counting my own years and start just counting K&T Girl years. Yeah. That’s the ticket.

Actually, Birthdays don’t bother me. But, I was asked to participate in a Younger Man/Older Woman anthology the other day. What’s that mean? Am I now an older woman? Ohhh. I think so. Samantha said we were just barely old enough to participate. LOL – Just barely? HA!

I’m excited to do it, but it got me thinking about being an older woman. I guess some would see this as a bad thing. Not me. I love being an older woman. After all, Hot Body is ten years my junior. Well, he looks it and acts it. You guys saw the pics of him in that grass skirt.

I feel so much stronger at my age than I did even a few years ago. I’m much more self aware, smarter. At 20 no one would ever have convinced me of these facts, but everything my mother said back then was true. I am a very different person now than I was in my twenties. I have different wants and needs, and tastes.

Thank God I didn’t get Adam Ant tattooed across my ass like I wanted in ‘86.

I’ve always had a theory about getting older. A theory that is contradictory to the current adage of lying about your age. Some women refuse to fess up their real age, but most people fudge it by a year or more. Wrong. Well, mostly wrong.
I’ll explain Mari’s theory of how to fudge your age.

Don’t take this wrong, but women have it backward. Yep. I said it. BASS-ACKWARD. It happens at parties, I used to hear it in the office and never understood why anyone over 25 would want to shave years off their age. Why, oh why would you tell someone that you are several years YOUNGER than you are?

Ummm.. Helllllloooooo….

Let’s say you’re at a party talking with a group of random people from work. In conversation you say you’re 37 - when you’re really 40. What happens here? I’ll tell you what. They look at you and think…

“Wow, she looks older than that.” Of course they do. That’s because you ARE older than that.

Now – in Mari’s world this is how this same scenario goes.
They ask, “How old are you, Mari?”
I put my hands on my hips and reply, “That’s none of your bloody business.” Not really. Just kidding… I put my hands on my hips and say, “43.” When I am actually only 40. (Well, I was at the time this story is being played out.)

Now. In this situation, the observers look at me and think… “Wow, Mari looks great for her age.”

Why? Because, I’ve told them I am OLDER than I actually am, and not YOUNGER.

And as the years pass, the gap will get larger and larger. By the time I’m really 65 years old, everyone around me will think I’m a very young, highly energetic 75 year old. I will be the envy of the Foxy Hollow Retirement Community as I zip about on my Hoveround scooter with my younger man on the back (or hopefully on my back).

Well… Just my theory. Do with it what you will.

Anyway. Eliza has gone all out this week. I can’t compete with the great prizes she’s put up for grabs, so be sure to comment on her posts. But, for my contribution to the Kiss and Tell Girls Birthday bash, I have one of the conference bags just as it was handed out at RT. Its got books, promo, and excerpts. The only thing missing will be your name on the badge. I’ll even throw in one of the backpacks Samantha and I gave away at the convention and a print version of Birthright.

I’ll draw from one of the comments from today’s blog.
Happy Birthday to us, and you get the gifts. How great is that?
~Kiss Kiss