<p>Yeah, but -- So what?!</p>
<p>No, it's not wrong. </p>
<p>It's just not wise. Babe, if you spend too long complaining about the cost of the convertible, then you lose the opportunity to spend the same amount of money on yourself. Car? Motorcycle? ;) Boat? Yearly cruises for the next decade with your girlfriends? Ridiculously overpriced art? A rare book collection?</p>
<p>The possibilities are endless. </p>
<p>Cheers,
As for the 25-year-old - why not acquire your own? I'll introduce you to a few. ;) Haven't you seen the last episodes of "Sex and the City," where Samantha falls hard for a guy in his 20s? Inspiration is only as far away as TBS!</p>
<p>Some 25-year-olds do drink until they throw up. Some don't. It's about 50/50, with the half that do being of the male persuasion. Hence the reason why said quarter-centurian would be hanging around older men. The attraction will fade once she hears the word "prostate." </p>
<p>If all else fails, your resident 25-year-old will help to, ahem, dispose of her. </p>
<p>(Okay, okay, this can all clearly be filed under "Top Reasons Why Aries Cannot Form a Functional Relationship.")</p>
<p>...and why are y'all sober right now???</p>
<p>Under 10 years old - wears plaid with stripes. Everyone notices, but: Who cares? Why not?
Under 16 years old - can't choose outfit without consultation with minimum of 3 girlfriends. Worries all day what everyone else thinks. "Why not" is a foreign concept.
Under 49 years old - heavy fashion-magazine-reading era. Wants to afford the unaffordable. "Why not" means "how come <em>I</em> don't have the same clothing budget as_______?"
Over 50 years old - "Oops, just noticed I left the house wearing one black pump and one navy pump. No matter, I'm over 50 - nobody's looking." The era of ultimate freedom. Why not?</p>
<p>Haha. 25 year old. I've got a dozen hunky 18 to 21 year olds males hanging around the house, lingering at my dinner table. Even with cute accents, thanks but no thanks. The toy boy thing holds zero interest--probably becuase, unlike stricken 50-something men, a 48 year old woman usually has no innate desire to produce more children. </p>
<p>My 49 year old is a gem and I aim to keep him for another 23 years. ;)</p>
<p>cheers-
Are you trading him in for a newer model at 72?</p>
<p>Aries-
Spend money on myself? What a concept. Other than the luxuries of massages and hair highlighting (thats a euphemism for covering the gray), I dont spend much on myself. However, I did know that hubby was sniffing out convertibles, and I picked this one out for us.. errr... I mean him. I do find myself periodically taking the "wrong" set of keys (oops.. silly me...) and tooling around in the car. But, when it gets looked at at traffic lights, I know they are looking at thecar and not at me :(</p>
<p>cheers, </p>
<p>Actually it is possible that NATURE wants that 48 year old woman to produce one last kid (whether we want to or not) and that's why the hormones go so nuts... Get a move on, lady, or you'll miss the boat...</p>
<p>I believe midlife crises are absolutely tied to the phase change away from creating children. I think nature wants all creatures to procreate as much as possible. For women, it's intensified because we do have that time when we know this is the last moment it's possible. Anecdotally, I have witnessed the hormone surge you discuss. I believe this is all tied together.</p>
<p>Think about it. A midlife crisis manifests as "where-will-I-get-my-endorphins?' while babies and the method to create babies are probably tied for first place in human endorphin creation. Acquisition of shiny new goods, exercising, reading books (OK maybe that's just me), travel, all in the running for second, third, etc.</p>
<p>We all wish that being productive good citizens created endorphins. If so, the problems of the human race would be largely solved. However, assuming I am correct in my analysis so far, the implication is that we all need to find new, surprising, creative, endorphin-creating activities that do not rely on our reproductive hormones...</p>
<p>Quilting? Knitting? Bungee-jumping?</p>
<p>The only thing that occurs to me that is not either fattening, savings-depleting in the extreme, or life-risking, is a well-thought out career move into the field you have always wanted to pursue. And my guess is, cheers is already there...</p>
<p>One sure-fire way to cure the midlife blues is to listen to an utterly humorless interview with an 86-year old science fiction author whose writing used to make my skin fly off and snap back into place while simultaneously causing me to laugh out loud. Hearing someone else's self-generated contempt for...well, everything is a good reminder that humor is what makes each day so interesting, so tolerable, and so highly pleasing. Like it or not, humor is part of the human condition, and when we shut it down, we might as well buy a Scootie and park it on the front porch at Shady Acres. I am not yet ready to change my screen name to OldLady Sluggdrool. </p>
<p>There must be a word to describe someone who loathes every single thing on Earth. Pessimist just doesn't cover the whole spectrum of gloom. Misanthrope is getting there. Captious misanthrope is as close as I can get to describing this famous man who smokes filterless Pall Malls because it's a "classy" way to commit suicide and signs his autograph with an asterisk because it signifies an anus. My mother, the chain-smoking proctologist, would have some appreciation for these things, <em>butt</em> I prefer to be remembered in less revolting ways.</p>
<p>Maybe, that's what Kurt Vonnegut is going for, these days...to leave a legacy of revolting images. But, I thought he'd be less of a prattling old guy who gave up on comic relief for the weary time traveler. </p>
<p>I do not see an alien or sinner in here who has done that! :) </p>
<p>It's a function of midlife these days to roll with it, laugh, and move on to whatever is down the road, and if that means a few age spots, who cares? It's better than getting your period for the first time. It's better than breaking out in junior high. It's better than being petrified to go to a school dance, and it's better than wrecking your parents' car on a dark freeway in the middle of the night. It's better than getting fired from a job, better than stretch marks, and better than rushing a 15-month old with a 103 degree temp to the doctor at 2 a.m.</p>
<p>I think I saw Billy Pilgrim and Kilgore Trout in the back booth having a beer together. I hope that Mr. Vonnegut stops by Sinner's Alley one of these nights. This is the most <em>unstuck in time</em> crowd I've ever seen. :)</p>
<p>Phew, for a second, Sluggbug, I thought you were talking about Ray Bradbury and I was going to be VERY sad. Not that his writing ever made my "skin fly off" or anything, but I've enjoyed it and would hate to think he'd turned into a misanthrope. Sounds like Vonnegut may have suffered some brain damage somewhere along the way, though. :( And age spots, bleh, got them, hate them, but moving on.</p>
<p>Slugg, you have reminded me of perhaps the best endorpin-generator of all. Laughter! How could I have forgotten? Note to self - find more things funny. That's why I hang out in Sinner's Alley - for the ROFLMAO. In fact, just thinking about the doves hopping about on carports like kernels of popcorn makes me forget my midlife crisis for the moment!</p>
<p>Been reading excerpts and interviews from Louann Brizendine who published The Female Brain. <a href="http://www.thestar.com/NASApp/cs/ContentServer?pagename=thestar/Layout/Article_Type1&c=Article&cid=1154814633453&call_pageid=968332188492&col=968793972154&t=TS_Home%5B/url%5D">http://www.thestar.com/NASApp/cs/ContentServer?pagename=thestar/Layout/Article_Type1&c=Article&cid=1154814633453&call_pageid=968332188492&col=968793972154&t=TS_Home</a></p>
<p>Somewhere, she noted the irrational tendancies of middle aged women regarding their spouses. I admit, I have had my fair share of those irrational thoughts; ie "This endorphin drop MUST be HIS fault!" Brizendine puts those irrational thoughts down to hormonal imbalances and changes. I tend to agree. I've put mine in a box in the back of my mind and been infinitely happier ever since.</p>
<p>Correspondingly, men also have this change as they aproach 50 and as they approach the loss of their sexual vitality and attractiveness--to much younger women. (We still think they are cute but younger women ignore them). Basically a 20+ year marriage is two ships lost at sea, taking target practice at each other through a hormonal pea soup fog. </p>
<p>Question: when folks didn't live beyond the age of 50, did theri hormonal changes happen earlier--or is this problem an attribute of our prosperity?</p>
<p>
[quote]
correspondingly, men also have this change as they aproach 50 and as they approach the loss of their sexual vitality and attractiveness--to much younger women. (We still think they are cute but younger women ignore them).
[/quote]
Unless they are rich. The rest of us are basically invisible. Sigh.</p>
<p>
[quote]
Basically a 20+ year marriage is two ships lost at sea, taking target practice at each other through a hormonal pea soup fog.
[/quote]
What a great summation. Doesn't sound all that appealing I suppose, except compared to the alternative....</p>
<p>Lol, they were hot little birds, Alu! Oh, Momof2inca -- Ray Bradbury is such a cool guy. I hope I'm just like him when I grow up. I want to hang out in his basement and invite him over to dinner. Here's a link to a montage of short Quicktime videos clips of Mr. Bradbury on different topics:</p>
<p>I love it that "Halloween is every day" in the basement where he writes. :)</p>
<p>Ah, so the convertible is BOTH of yours! I see, I see. :)</p>
<p>Cheers -if you don't want the 25-year-old Latin hottie, then why not just go for scads of fabulous lovers? Diplomats, physicists, senators - the possibilities are endless. ;)</p>
<p>I'm much older than you Aries. I've had the mini-scads of fabulous lovers. I married the gem of the bunch and generally been very happy. Even in our dottage, I wouldn't trade my gem for a 25 year old hottie. He's too much fun and 25 year olds..aren't....though they are nice to look at. Maybe I have been in the construction industry too long or the mother of boys for too long to be so fascinated by 25 year old men. Or physicists? Pulllleeeze! </p>
<p>Even rich 50 year old men are consumed with worry, drb. Look at the poof of orange cotton candy on The Donald's head. Even with that hot window dressing at his side, he's visibly sucking wind. Or Hugh Hefner, supposed Viagra king. I'm not buying it. There's nothing sexual about the guy--even surrounded by dim witted blondes. You can't fool mother nature.</p>
<p>Hey, no disputes about the shortcomings of men my age! :)</p>
<p>Another way of cranking those endorphins and enjoying a little fantasyland is reconnecting with old flames. I did so, initially quite by accident. It was very entertaining and brought back lots of fond memories. But, it also made me appreciate my hubbie all that much more (and the convertible really is his-- I've only taken it for a spin a few times - and HEAVEN FORBID it might get a scratch or someting on it). Anyway, I digress..... It's been fun overlapping the decades a bit-- and merging the memories with the benefit of a very sweet spouse.</p>
<p>Sinner's Alley on page 2...</p>
<p>It's awfully quiet and lonely over in the corner here, and I'm holding on, but the mechanical bull sounds like it needs some 3 in 1 oil....</p>
<p>Bump</p>
<p>BHappyMom, I'll join you! I generally only unstick myself from the orange vinyl booth when I have joyous news to share, but this has been one heck of a week. My daughter was hospitalized for five days with the sudden onset of what we have taken to calling "brownouts"...she gets cold, clammy, she loses her sight, and then her hearing. Fortunately, we've received good news in that all the Big Bads have been eliminated, and we're looking at a combination of some hypoglycemic episodes with a likely neurocardiogenic syndrome (or something like that!) which are both readily treatable with some adjustments to her diet. I do think the time in the hospital has disabused my daughter of any desire to ever give blood (the nurses started calling her "Roly Poly" because of her here-one-minute-gone-the-next veins), but other than that, all is good. I'm having a protein drink as a mark of solidarity with my daughter's new protein-intensive diet, but the bar's open and drinks are on me.</p>
<p>And this seems as good a time as any to mention our unexpected news on the scholarship front. My daughter was reviewing her FA information on her college's website and noticed some discrepancies. It appeared they had double-counted one of her outside scholarships and had mistakenly listed her as a recipient of another school scholarship. She e-mailed the FA office pointing out the errors and left it at that. Today she received an e-mail back, thanking her for pointing out their errors. They corrected the double counted scholarship, and then informed her that the additional $1000 scholarship was NOT an error...the only error was that they forgot to inform her of the additional funds. Apparently, they had some extra money floating around, and when they received her senior grades (a 4.0 for the year), they decided to give her more money. This from a school that was already giving her $18K in scholarships! Just call me stunned, humbled, and grateful...</p>
<p>Mezzomom - Best Wishes on your daughter's health (ruling out the Big Bads is a very Good Thing) , and congrats on the extra moola! As good things often travel in 3's, there must be something else wonderful waiting for you just around the corner. :)</p>
<p>Now a protein drink, would that be like a banana daquiri with whipped cream? ;)</p>