Maybe fading away is the better option?

I am getting older every day. There is no stopping it and it's happening to everyone. This knowledge doesn't usually bother me...I fully intend to enjoy each year as it comes. Plus, I don't really feel my age and I know a lot of other people who feel quite a bit younger than they are as well. 

However, there are things I see happening around me that make me pine for my youth in a bad way. A prime example? Stars that were once crazy-hot and making great movies, who are now not only visibly aging, but also fat and "starring" in really bad movies. 

Val Kilmer, what the hell happened to you? You played Jim fucking Morrison so convincingly, it was hard to believe you weren't one in the same. And Iceman? I wanted to be your wingman. Actually, I just wanted to watch you play beach volleyball some more. But now... sigh. 

John Travolta? I'm not old enough to have fully appreciated you in 'Saturday Night Fever' and I wouldn't say I ever found you that attractive, but coolness-wise, there is no beating Vincent Vega in 'Pulp Fiction'. (A shout out to all those who still order a 'Royale with cheese' at McDonalds) But now... 'Old Dogs'? Really? 

I understand as people grow older and start families, their priorities change and they start focusing on more 'family-friendly' projects. But, you can make family movies that don't suck! Take 'Alvin and the Chipmunks'... I've been staying with a friend of mine and her 10-year old son for the last month, so I've seen this movie about 147 times.  Jason Lee, who I grew to love via Kevin Smith movies in the 90's, is the star of this movie and not only is it pretty funny, but he still looks like he did when he was 20! I like that. 

 I say once your looks start to fail you and you become virtually unrecognizable to your original fan base, maybe you should go buy a house in the country and get a hobby instead of making futile attempts to reclaim your former glory. This goes double for you, Rolling Stones! Seriously, you guys are like, 70. Nobody wants to see you shaking your old-man asses across the stage anymore. It's gross. And you can't hit those notes anymore either, so really, what's the point? Buy some comfy slippers and a reclining chair and commence to yelling at kids to stay off your lawn. Please.

Turn the page...

Throughout life, people are often given oppurtunities. Sometimes an inheritence or settlement of some sort will allow someone to pack up and travel someplace they've always wanted to go. Sometimes a job-loss, complete with a cashed-out 401K, can provide the perfect circumstance for a mid-life-crisis-style journey. And sometimes, as in my case, you are given the gift of homelessness, coupled with indecision about life and career, an insatiable wanderlust, and enough gas money to get through at least 5 states before turning tricks at a truckstop becomes a very real possibility. So I find myself hitting the road, searching for new places, new experiences and hopefully, some clarity. I think it is really amusing to hear others' ideas about what this trip is going to be for me. The most humerous idea being that I will meet some handsome, Kerouac-esque stranger while on the road and have a torrid affair. Considering that for the first week and a half I was traveling, I didn't comb my hair or apply makeup and I started most days with a baby-wipe whore-bath and a swish of listerine, I didn't exactly notice many fellas looking my way. Plus, I sort of need a break anyway. Boys have been making my head hurt more than usual lately. It's a scientific fact that when someone who is slightly interested in you thinks they aren't going to see you for a long time, they immediately want to have sex with you. I experienced this to an eery degree 10 years ago when I announced I was moving to Colorado. I had ex-boyfriends and old crushes coming out of the freaking woodwork for "one last fling". Same thing before I left on this trip, even though I made it clear I'd be back in a month. Maybe full moon had something to do with it? Bizarre. Another thing people assume is that since I'm stopping in Pennsylvania (where I grew up) to visit family and friends, that I'm going to spontaneously decide I want to give up everything I have in Colorado and move back to my hometown. Clearly these people have never been to my hometown. I won't lie... being back in Pa brings out a weird nostalgic longing in me that I'm not exactly sure what to do with. I've even indulged in some random, stream-of-consciousness daydreams about running into someone from high school who I didn't really know, but who I always thought was cute, and we would fall in love and I'd move into his farmhouse and pop out a bunch of babies and we'd go to church on Sundays, then maybe to lunch at his parents' house and I would join the ladies auxillary and help organize craft shows and firehall BBQ's. Is this what I want? Not particularly, but this is what being in Pa does to my brain. I think there is something in the air there (besides the ever-present smell of manure). So, I will continue being a soul-searching hippy for the moment and when I return home in a few weeks, I will attempt to be a grown-up and make better decisions. Although, as the facebook page I recently became a 'fan' of says: "Bad decisions make funny stories". And life is all about the stories...