Hot Child in the City…..Or Not!

I admit that I’ve never really been someone enamored of the dog days of summer.  I don’t enjoy the beach or swimming and am not a sun worshiper.  Instead I always associated summer with vacation from school in that lazy, hazy, crazy way.  More importantly as I became a young adult I looked forward to the “summer romance.”  It seemed nothing was better than meeting some guy and spending time on long walks, or dining alfresco and reveling in each others youth & beauty.  Now that I am 50 it’s all become a sad, painful, faint memory.  Summer has become the bane of my existence.  To be honest there was some pressure knowing that I wouldn’t be able to eat and hide behind layers of clothing, but now that I’m older the idea of shedding those layers has me petrified.  When I look into the mirror I see all those things that I hate about getting older.  The skin and hair have lost some of their luster and the body…oh the body.  Menopause has wrecked havoc. 

It’s so funny when you’re younger you can find all sorts of stupid flaws that in retrospect weren’t really flaws at all.  I used to complain about needing to lose weight.  The only time I had gained weight was my freshman year of college and that’s what late runs to Micky D’s will get ya!  However I discovered bulimia and lost the weight.  Eventually after some therapy I lost the bulimia too. Fortunately the weight didn’t return and I was blessed with a great metabolism which allowed me to cram all sorts of unhealthy things into my mouth, while maintaining a teeny waistline which I was happy to show off every chance I got.  Now I look at a cookie and my dress size goes up.  It’s so depressing!

Maybe even worse is that I am bombarded with all these images of young nubile women scampering around the city in barely there outfits, reminding me of what I used to be and probably will never be again.  Oh the cruel passage of time.  No minis, shorts, belly baring or tank tops with my bounties overflowing.  The thing that keeps freaking me out is that while I cut back to more age appropriate garb a few years ago, I still managed to wear “hot” outfits that looked good.  The other day I tried to put on a pair of pants that fit perfectly three years ago.  I was able to get in them once I inhaled and sucked in my stomach.  Talk about waiting to exhale!

So again I try to navigate through this new unknown world and in the meantime one can only hope for sweater weather.

Should I Stay or Should Go?

I am a New Yorker by both birth and choice.  When I was a kid growing up NY happened to be the place I lived.  I had no say it’s just where my family was living.  In college it was the home I was trying to return to a la Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz.  Since returning it’s become the place I have yet to conquer but still want to be buried in Central Park.  It’s not an easy place but it’s also never boring.   People come from every corner of this and other countries to make their dreams come true.   Sometimes when you’re already here, you’re not quite as ambitious and take everything for granted.

The situation is that I am over 50, single, childless.  It might be politically correct to say I’d been too career oriented to have a “real” life.  Unfortunately that’s not true.  I just wasn’t paying attention and as John Lennon said, “life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.”  I was more focused on my latest loser boyfriend than forging a strong career path.  I spent my 20s and 30s attempting to change grown men into what I wanted them to be and before I knew it my youth was gone and so were the men.  I worked in various fields but never made the “splash” I imagined as a teenager.  I was competent but never reached that zenith, the top job and all the perks that would come with it.  Then the tsunami known as the Great Recession hit.  In the blink of an eye I was over 50, unemployed and alone.  Now what?

I still didn’t have a game plan and assumed things would continue as they had for almost 30 years.  I’d do mass resume emailing and eventually find something even if it wasn’t my heart’s desire.  Not so fast!  This recession was really deep and jobs had vanished like a puddle on a hot summer day.  What’s worse is that I fell into that much maligned group of “older” workers.  Contrary to other times, I did feel old, washed up and obsolete.  Technology had taken hold and everyone wanted some youngster who was well versed in the new language of social networking.  In addition to graduating with a MBA from Harvard, you needed to know all Microsoft office products, how to create and maintain a website using html PLUS the knowledge to upload videos to YouTube, photos to Flickr, create company pages on Facebook and interact with customers on Twitter.  Oh come on…enough already!!!!

So after exhausting my unemployment benefits not to mention my patience and sanity, I needed a new plan of action because the old one was definitely NOT working.  In the last week or so I made a decision to look at jobs outside of New York City.  Pack up and move, inconceivable but it may be necessary.  Now I’m sure some rational adult person might say, “What’s the problem since you’re not married, don’t have kids, not even a cat!”  That’s all true but what I do have is the only long term relationship in my life and that’s my love affair with New York. 

This really hit critical mass when I saw a great posting for a job in California.  I haven’t been intrigued by California since the Mamas & Papas were dreaming, but the position was so juicy I couldn’t just dismiss it.  So last night as I watched Anne Baxter backstabbing Bette Davis in All About Eve, I swallowed hard and submitted a resume.  As I found out this last year, submitting a resume is no guarantee of an interview or acknowledgment that you sent a resume.  Yet as scary as it is to envision myself in a completely new and foreign environment far from everything I’ve ever known, is the slight titillation that I would get the chance to reinvent myself, albeit late in life, and do something new & interesting and possibly find that guy.  If not the guy maybe a great cat!Custom Search

Facebook and Facing Fears

Contrary to what some may think, mature adults can be computer literate too!  I like to pride myself on my willingness to not only learning new technology but embracing it.  I’ve been using computers since the 1980s when they were ugly boxes without any sex appeal.  Now they are slick, stylish, mobile and so much more than we could have imagined when the “weird kids” were taking computer science in high school.  I took my first computer class on a classic Mac at the YWCA in 1988.  It was an exercise in frustration but I didn’t let that deter me because it was obvious computers were going to become an integral part of the workplace.  Since then, at one time or another, either on my own or the suggestion (and financial support) of an employer, I’ve taken courses in Lotus, WordPerfect, Dialog, Lexis-Nexis, Access, PowerPoint, Excel and even the internet.  So as I began to read and hear about social networking, I felt obligated to get on board.  At first I didn’t see the point as it seemed to be a lot of self indulgent jabbering.  It was about even less than nothing than Seinfeld.  In time however, I became more engaged as I discovered a quick and easy way to communicate about everything from politics to the banal.  As I got acclimated to networking, I slowly dipped my toe into opening up doors that had long since been closed.  I tried to find my former college roommate and while that was unsuccessful, I did connect with many former classmates from as far back as junior high.  I have to admit that every time I reached out and received a friendly response it was exhilarating.  Not only was it the chance to communicate with people who “knew me when,” but old petty issues were finally put to rest.  One of the best conversations took place with a girl I “couldn’t stand” back in the day.  She was now a mother and quite accomplished and it felt like a period had been added to our story.  We were no longer self involved tweens but mature women who had lived and evolved to the point where we discussed meeting up when schedules allowed.

Sitting home alone on a Saturday night, I decided to join my alumni association’s page on Facebook.  By the time I logged on Sunday morning there was a message from my best friend from high school.  I hadn’t seen her in 30 years and last communicated after our 20^th reunion, which neither of us attended.  Even though we had been close friends, she had changed a great deal.  She was divorced with a child, had relocated and earned her MBA.  Sorry to say my road in life hadn’t been as eventful, but I was happy to hear from her.   Even though she had given me her new number, there are timed when I am more comfortable hiding behind my monitor, so we continued exchanging messages.  One day I logged in to see she had left a message and turns out it was an invitation to an event.  I clicked on it and anxiety engulfed me.  She was coming up to NY and invited me to her 50^th birthday party.  Not that number again.  Just as I put it on the back burner of my mind here it was front and center.  But after catching my breath something struck me as odd.  Instead of googling therapists, she was celebrating her half century mark.  She wanted her friends to join her.  It didn’t seem to be an albatross for her but it was for me.  Why?  I started to think about it.  Her life was better but it wasn’t perfect.  I started to line up her life events against mine.  She had married and I hadn’t, but she was divorced.  If you never marry you never have to endure a divorce.  She had a child while I didn’t even have a dog.  Yeah but I was never maternal so I spared some poor unsuspecting child the horror of me as mom.  She had earned a graduate degree and I only dream of one.  May well be another unfulfilled dream.  She moved to Florida and I was still back in NY.  This one is a toss up.  She moved due to the job and misses NY and I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else.  So all in all, I decided she may well have a reason to celebrate.  Even though things may not have always turned out the way she hoped, on balance she had a good life. I hadn’t had an awful life but there was so much on the table that I had never gotten around to and probably will never get to, so my life feels unfulfilled and maybe that’s why 50 hit like a ton of bricks.  In the end it’s probably not how old you are but how you spent those years.  If you feel that you squandered opportunities and didn’t make the most of what you had, then you will feel sad and hobbled by the woulda coulda shouldas.

Now that I figured that out, can I find a decent date in time for the party?  Stay tuned!!!