Hi. I'm Cat Palmer, and I'm officially middle-aged.
I bought binoculars the other day because now I apparently like to look at birds. For fun. This morning, "Don't Speak" by No Doubt was playing on the local oldies station.
At my local coffee shop, they were training a new barista, and I was about to call the labor department to report child labor when the fresh-faced boy told me he was 20.
A friend gave me a refreshing spray for my face, explaining: "You're perimenopausal now, and you'll love this." Honestly!? I thought. But she was right—I really do love it.
I'm very into ugly and comfortable shoes now. Insert a lesbian joke here if you must. My mosh-pit days are behind me. Now, when I dance for hours, I feel it for days.
I can passionately talk about what I grew in my garden this year, or how to elevate a dish with toasted sage—with absolutely zero shame.
Recently, some friends-of-a-certain-age went all the way to Santa Fe, New Mexico, to see the Dresden Dolls, only to find out that the doors wouldn't open until 10 p.m.—as if Amanda Palmer and I aren't the same age!
Is she a vampire? Is she just infinitely hipper and cooler than the rest of us? She's certainly cooler than my friends, who after all that travel, opted for a cozy night in at their rental and skipped the show.
For the love of everything holy, why aren't matinee concerts a thing?! Hear me out: Shows start at 2 p.m.; the band plays a contractually obligated 90-minute set; we all go out after to an early-bird dinner special without having to wait for a table; and we'd all be in bed before the doors open at the shows I'm stuck going to now.
Local concert promoters: This is a million-dollar idea. Call me.
My friends Lucas and Joshua got married—two beautiful ballet dancers. The wedding looked like the Met Gala of SLC! I thought, "Oh, I'll take some video of these gorgeous outfits!" I ended up with a lot of videos of people's feet and, no, that's not my thing.
But is it a thing that once you hit middle age, you no longer know how to use your phone?!
Look, I know age is relative. My friend, Pat, is 67 and still running marathons. Another friend, Stuart, celebrated his 60th birthday by climbing K2. They both travel the world often and continue to live their best lives.
But I like the comforts of the life I have now. Walk a mile in my unsightly-yet-sensible shoes, and you just might agree.
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