What's My Age Again?

Sometimes I find myself in situations where I wonder if my Life Ambition is to be a cougar. And I'm not referring to the furry school mascot. No, I mean COUGAR.




I see these women all over the place, what with the year round warmth and 24-hour tanning beds and Botox Vans That Make House Calls, who obviously can't let go of their Glorious Days Of Real Youth and age gracefully. Not that these fashion mistakes make them Cougars, but I'm a good judger and I can just tell. It's got something to do with the really low designer jeans paired with a flowy-satiny-sequined tank top and the way certain wobbley bits hang out. Gosh at least put on a bra woman! Did you trip on your 5-inch heels and mistakenly think you woke up in 1981? Because guess what? Forever 21 is a store, not a mantra.


Anyway. Even though I'm in my twenties, I'm pretty sure that the new fragrance "Cougar: Denial" was accidentally sprayed on me a few too many times on Friday night. When I went to THE. MOST. AWESOME. high school football game ever.


I was sitting on the bleachers with another twenty-something, critiquing play successes and failures with incredible insight and accuracy, and then doing plenty of cheering and dancing when the occasion called for it, when this conversation began:


Her: Oh no - I think I might be turning into one of THOSE women (pointing to every mom on the visitors bleachers).


Me: What tipped you off first? The fact that you're at a high school football game with other single girls? or the fact that #20 keeps popping up in our game analysis, even when he's on the bench?

Her: I had this thought when I first saw those 5-foot, 85-lb. blond girls wearing only their underwear and body paint with their boyfriends' number on their stomachs--

Me: That you wanted to let them borrow your scarf?

Her: No! That I wish I was one when I was in high school.

Me: (stunned silence) Sooo . . . practically naked?

Her: You know - the girl who dated the quarterback.

Me: Or the whole football team.

Her: Well OBVIOUSLY I'd where more than a swath of jersey around my loins.

Me: Why? I'd wear that every day if I could.


I thought about her comment for a minute, and realized -- I TOTALLY AGREE. I was never a Jersey Chaser, but in my mind I totally was AND STILL AM. My pride would never allow me to admit to it, but I would be all over a decent-looking and non-sweaty athlete if given the chance.
..What? Don't judge me.

I told my friend the moment I put it all together, and she's like, "Yeah I think you'll end up like that (head nodding back toward moms) too, just watch. We've never dated athletes, so it probably means we can't ever let go of high school."

Shudder.

But you know what? Whatever. What. Ever. Being all deep and principled and dignified is always toted as being "better." But better for whom? For ME?! Since when has dignity gotten me anywhere? Maybe those I'm 23 But Actually 49 women are onto something. There's only way to know.

So guys - new fall goal!