I’m An Oldster

I’ve plucked out so many crooked eyelashes over the last few days that I’m certain I’m only 1 or 2 eyelashes from being bald up there. But isn’t it satisfying to pull out those troublesome buggers? When I was little, people often commented on my long lashes and one day I decided to trim them. I don’t remember why I felt compelled to do so but I remember being very careful not to cut myself. That night my Dad tucked me into bed and was shocked to discover my shorty lashes.

Dancing on Friday was kind of a bust. I had fun hanging out with my friends but I think I’m officially old enough that the club scene is more irksome than alluring. Part of the problem was that it was Brickyard weekend here in Indy so there were tons of people out partying like it was their last night on earth. The music at Ike and Jonesy’s was good but it was basically impossible to move on the dance floor. When we tried to make more room, we got some seriously bitchy looks from a few girls so we finally gave up. Just a few years ago I used to go dancing every weekend and I don’t remember the crowds and drunken foofaraw bothering me. I guess on-the-verge of 32 is the age at which I become A Square. *shaking my cane at you noisy kids*

Ring tabAfter not poppin’ bottles in tha club, we went back to my friend’s place, where we played cards and drank Diet Sprite, 2 activities which are apparently more my speed. While waiting my turn, I stared absentmindedly at my can of Sprite and suddenly remember my middle-school friends and I pulling off drink tabs and saving them. They were only worth saving if you didn’t break the little metal ring though. Only those could be redeemed for kisses, although I never cashed any in. It would be years before I would smooch a boy but thankfully he didn’t have to be coerced with any bits of metal.

P.S. Am I the only one who remembers saving those and it being an admirable skill to get them off without breaking the ring?

Advertisements

12 Responses to “I’m An Oldster”

  1. Kris Says:

    Yeah, I think 32 was about when I realized those 25-year-olds weren’t even in the same league as I was anymore. A night of cards & Diet Sprite (and pizza!) is about as good as it gets, IMHO.

    I still think it’s an admirable skill to get those tabs off intact. It’s kinda like stopping the gas pump at at even $.00 amount. Either ya got it, or ya don’t!

  2. lydia Says:

    Earlier this year, at the tender age of 29, I went out for happy hour with the girls and then we thought it would be fun to hit up this club we used to go to all the time–they always had great music for dancing! So we wandered up the block and headed down the stairs towards the thumpin’ beats… got a drink and began to dance. It was about 10 minutes in that I started noticing all the bare midriffs… tiny skirts… tube tops… and then I looked at myself in the mirror they so kindly place by the dance floor and was shocked to see the older woman in the nice sweater and trouser jeans looking back at me.

    Uh, how did that happen so fast?!

  3. Amy Says:

    I never did know why people pulled off those tabs. And I still don’t understand the tapping before you open the can!

  4. mymsie Says:

    @Amy: I remember people saying tapping kept a drink from blowing up when you opened it? Sounds like something for the MythBusters team!

  5. Sara Says:

    I had jars and jars of those pull tabs all around my room in seventh grade! On slow days, I remember sitting around and counting them…Weird, I know.
    A few years ago, a happy hour after work had my coworkers and I out really, really late during mardi gras in St. Louis (except we were so pathetic we had no idea it was fat Tuesday or whatever)…I got some really strange looks as we left very hip and trendy bars in our sweater vests and briefcases as 3 a.m. (Seriously, even though we were wearing sweater vests, we fit in okay when we arrived 8 hours earlier!)

  6. Moxy Says:

    I remember those pull tabs!! And yes, the inner-ring thing meant you had mad skillz. I am also getting a vivid memory of putting tons of them on a shoelace and attaching it to a backpack or maybe a purse?! Gorgeous. I think my friend Sara even made a jingl-y bracelet from some. I shall consult her on Facebook to verify. Thanks for bringing back fun, silly memories.

  7. MB Says:

    I can’t remember the last time I went to a club (talk about old) and was disgusted by all the falling down drunks. I’d rather stay home and play cards now too.

    We saved those pop-tops for some charity (Shriners, I think) that would donate money depending on how many you turned in. I never heard of trading them in for kisses so I never tried my skills of pulling them off without a bur.

  8. eksith Says:

    I’m virtually convinced that women go through all this trauma for the sake of other women. Not men.

    Honestly, I never understood what the big deal was about eyebrows, or eyelashes or lips etc… etc… There are a million other ways to measure someone besides age, clubs and eyelashes.

  9. Ms. Gooneth Says:

    Poptabs . . . I thought one of those could be used to buy some poor soul an hours worth of kidney dialysis!

    I’ve always pop tabs to stick on the back of handmade plaques that I made since I was too cheap to buy frame hardware.

    I’ll really date myself here . . . remember the “old” pop tabs that came off the can, and us smart kids would put them back into the cans like we’d never swallow them? How about the real old cans that you would have to open with a can opener on the top from two different sides?!!

    I went to the eyebrow place at the mall once. (Notice I said “once!”) It was the place where the middle eastern women use a spool of thread to shape your eyebrows. That could be a form of torture! I don’t recall being in that much pain since before labor without an epidural.

  10. Amy Says:

    Oh man, we used to get Hawaiian Punch (or whatever off brand Dad bought) in a big can and had to do the two-holes opening!

  11. Larissa Says:

    your writing style is just delightful! I so there with ya.

  12. Larissa Says:

    (I’m)
    that is what you get for typing in a hurry and hitting ‘submit comment’ without proofing first.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: