Sometimes people ask me how old I am (usually when they find out I have four kids Ohmigodyoudon’tlookOLDenoughtohaveFOURKIDS is the standard phrasing) and when I answer, the number surprises me. Not too long ago I made the mistake of saying that I felt "old" to a bunch of stoned twenty something year old hippies at a party and I had to listen to earnest speeches about how age is all in your mind. Well, maybe. Also, fuck off and call me in fifteen years.
I’ve got a running start on my old lady status: grey hair, wrinkles, lots of prescriptions, arthritis, squinting to read small print, difficulty staying awake at night, difficulty falling asleep, stretch marks, wacked out veins, and experiences like I had tonight, shopping at Ikea to the then semi-alternative music of my teenage years (Depeche Mode, Adam Ant, Roxy Music, Dexy’s Midnight Runners, INXS).
But, you know what trumps all that? Not appreciating the slang that my kids use. Hearing it and thinking that it is really idiotic sounding. Sick? Really, guys? You like something, and so you say Ooooooooh, s i c k. Only, I think it may be sik or sic. I’m too goddamned old to know which.
I spent some time tonight looking for a webpage where I could plug in the abnormal lab tests I have been spitting out, you know, just for kicks and giggles, and see what they might mean. Is there such a thing? A doctor’s cheat sheet? I was hoping to find one before midnight, but I haven’t. I was kinda thinking that it was the one cool thing I could understand calling sick.