Sitting in the hair stylist's chair while the grey is slowly being removed from my hair, I get introspective. I think: this is the only thing I do as a concession to age.
On the heels of that thought, is this one: I have become one of the people I used to secretly laugh at when I was young. You know; those middle-aged people who stopped maturing but kept aging? I see myself sitting there in my flip-flops, jeans and Star Trek t-shirt and I think: when are you going to grow up?
I have essentially the same wardrobe I did in high school, just a few sizes larger. I play video games when I'm supposed to be doing housework. I have 3 Game Boys because they keep coming out with cooler ones. I occasionally watch Saturday morning cartoons. I quote Mel Brooks movies and Monty Python and Star Trek. I like Gummi Bears. I wear beads, I play the ukulele, I never style my hair or wear much makeup. I think it's funny to give my age in hexidecimal. I only wear pantyhose maybe once or twice a year. I know all 150 of the original Pokemon types. I know how to pronounce "Pokemon". I love all things Disney, and when I die, I want to have my ashes exploded with the fireworks over Disneyland. WHAT THE HELL KIND OF 49-YEAR-OLD IS THAT?
There was a long silence in my head after that question. Then the answer came: "Your kind".
The fact is that I am who and what I am. I'm just not going to let any one thing define me; not my age, not my job, not even my family and most certainly not some stupid disease. All of those things are part of who I am, but not one of them alone defines me. There are no rules about who I have to be just because of my age or anything else. So there.
Dang. I'm all out of Gummi Bears. Where's my Game Boy?