7 Thoughts About Turning 37

The author. I promise that's
not a roll of toilet paper on
the left.

I turned 37 last week. While birthdays are not a huge deal to me anymore, this one made me more reflective than others. It's kind of in the middle, you know? I'm not a spring chicken anymore, but I'm far from decrepit. It's a nice place to be, really. But it did produce a few reflections.

1. There are lines on my face now. But only when I smile. Or when the sunlight is really bright. Or when fluorescent lights are on. Oh, who am I kidding.
   
   In my 20s, I used to identify with song lyrics like:
   
        "I'm standing on the rooftop, shout it out!
        Baby, I'm ready to go!" –Republica
   
        "Hot child in the city!" –Nick Glider
   
   Nowadays I identify with song lyrics like:
   
        "The morning sun, when it's in your face,
        really shows your age." –Rod Stewart
   
        "Every time I look in the mirror, all these
        lines in my face getting clearer..." –Aerosmith
   
   
2.  

   

   The weekend ponytail. I don't care
   how gray I get, I am keeping it long
   enough for a pony, even if I look like
   Marilla from "Anne of Green Gables."

   Apparently I'm still young enough to get away with acting ditzy to get favors. In a store today, I approached a tall, handsome man standing next to a shelf, smiled up at him, and said, "Could you do me a huge favor? Would you grab one of those applesauce jars for me? I can't reach that high." He smiled back and handed me the jar.
   
   At least I think I'm still young enough. It could be that he was humoring me. Or maybe he thought I might be a cougar on the prowl. Or he was shocked by my weekend "fashion sense"—no makeup, baseball hat over my unshampooed ponytail, grubby jeans—and figured he'd get rid of me as quickly as possible before I asked him for directions back to "the home."
   
   
3. When buying alcohol, I still get carded every once in a blue moon. But I just laugh and hand them my driver's license and keep laughing while they check it, because yeah right.
   
   
4. I have a few gray hairs now. Well, not right this second. Because I pulled them all out. Just a few have made their appearance so far, and I'm still in that delusional phase where I pluck them. But it's only a matter of time before they return with vengeful armies of their peers, bent on total conquest of my scalp.
   
   The gray hairs first appeared sometime in my mid-30s. I can't remember my exact age, but it was shortly after I had kids. That's what's known as NOT a coincidence.
   
   
5.  

   

   Image credit: wesly.org

   I'm a prime number now, baby! This fills my inner math geek with delight.
   
   
6. It's absolutely true what they say about your 30s. They are better than your 20s, because you still look pretty good but you're tons more confident. Translation: you look pretty good with the right makeup and ambient lighting, but it doesn't matter because you don't really give a crap what people think anyway.
   
   
7. My dad visited this weekend. He said, "Thirty-seven. Boy, that sounds young." And that gave me pause. Because it's all relative. When I was a kid, 37 sounded ancient. To my dad, now in his 60s, it sounds like youth.
   
   I like this middle place. I can see back, and I can look forward. I like where I've been, and I like where I'm at now. I'd say I'm looking forward to my future, but I don't want to jinx myself. Uh-oh... is a superstitious nature a sign of aging? Ciao, ya'll... I need to go apply my anti-wrinkle cream.