Tag Archives: 30’s

The Truth About Getting Older

28 Apr

Let’s take a moment to talk some truths on what it’s really like to get older.  Not talking here about how wrinkles suddenly begin appearing on your forehead, or your neck.  The neck wrinkles are what really throw me.  I have a girlfriend who is six years younger than I am but she’s got the neck of a 70 year-old.  How does that happen?  At 39, I’m proud to have the neck of a 32 year old.  But do dudes really notice that?  Don’t think I’ve ever heard a dude say, “She was hot, but her neck wrinkles were a total turnoff.”

But I digress.

Let’s talk about the important stuff: how fucking terrible hangovers are when you’re older.

It’s cute when I hear my young friends say shit about how they were hungover.  How they had a tinge of a headache, took an hour nap, and then felt so much better.  I remember those days – about 20 years ago.  A hangover in college was nothing – it literally felt like I was about to get a bit of a headache.  All it took was a glass of water, a 15 minute nap, and I was golden.  Fast forward two decades and it almost feels like I need to call 911, have a full blood transfusion, a new liver, and a lobotomy to feel better.  Fucking worst.

The really stupid part is that they’re so easily avoidable, I mean, how hard is it to just say no to that one last drink?  That delicious drink that is heaven in a glass?  My limit is four – I know it is – and yet there are times when I think to myself that as long as I drink another glass of water that I’ll be fine.  Then 3 hours later I’m laying in my bed having a panic attack because I know the hangover is going to get me.  A legitimate panic attack – not awesome.

For those of you who are still young, here are all the awesome things you have to look forward to:

  • Headaches: headaches that feel like your brain will explode out of your forehead causing your eyes to pop out, and then your brain to ooze out of your eye sockets.
  • Dry mouth: the Mojave dessert will reside in your mouth.  No amount of lip smacking, tongue tapping, or water will be able to quench the dryness that settles in your mouth.  You could take a match and strike it on the roof of your mouth.
  • Queasiness and vomiting: you will want to vomit the world.  Your stomach will rumble, and you probably won’t be able to hold down the water that would actually help you get rid of the hangover.  There will even come a moment in the middle of the night where you might think, “I should probably just make myself get sick and I’ll feel better.”  Then while you’re vomiting last night’s half digested pepperoni pizza you come to the realization that no, vomiting is going to make you feel better.  Only God striking you dead on the bathroom floor will make you feel better.
  • [And now the part that no one ever wants to talk about] Stomach cramps and the big D: get ready for (I’m struggling to actually write the word because I hate talking about it so much that I’m just procrastinating and trying to avoid it but I feel like I need to tell you how it really is so I’m talking myself into it and trying to avoid it all at the same time so I just am trying to figure out how to just write it and it’s making me nervous and grossed out at the same time but here we go so get ready…) explosive diarrhea.  It’s going to happen.  You, my friend, are going to get to a moment when you say to yourself, “I am rotting from the inside.”  It’s going to happen, and you might cry while it happens because it’s so incredibly disgusting, and you should cry.  Because you did that to yourself.  You did that – you made your body do that and it’s your fault.

Typical recovery time can be anywhere from 24 to 48 hours.  No joke.  And I’ll tell you what?  They morning you wake up after having fought off the hangover is like being totally reborn.  You could conquer the world you feel so fucking amazing.  And three days later when you’re at Happy Hour and you’re still apprehensive about whether or not you should have one more drink, I hope you remember when you were sobbing on the toilet because your insides were coming out your backside.

And that, young friends, is what you have to look forward to.

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The cost of adulthood

27 Feb

As a college student getting drunk was a breeze.  All it took was a combination of hard liquor and watered down shitty beer, or watered down shitty alcohol.  My fave combos consisted of:

  • 1 mind eraser, and a pitcher of Coors Light
  • 1 shot of Goldschlager, and 4 Long Island Iced Teas

Total cost?  Approximately $10-15 per drunken night.  Hangovers?  Nope, none at all.  Ah, the good old days when my body could handle the booze.  I’d wake up the next day and was perfectly fine.

The cost of a drunken stupor now is far more expensive – in more ways than one.  You couldn’t pay me to drink Coors Light now, and a mind eraser with a Long Island Iced Tea would probably be enough to cause a blackout.  Instead I find myself enjoying fancy cocktails that look like art in a glass and cost $10-15 per drink.  My max is usually around 4, BUT a few weekends ago my bill came out to $156.  I have no fucking clue how that happened – that’s what happens when you blackout, you don’t remember shit.

Last night my friend from college came into town.  On his way to meet me for dinner he alluded to a night of drunken debauchery for which we would both pay in the morning.  Fearing the hangover at an 8:30 meeting I was smart enough to pace myself and enjoyed only four glasses of wine with plenty of water.  He enjoyed his vodka tonic, five glasses of red wine, and beer.

At about 11 this morning he sent me a text saying that he was so hungover he thought he had died and was suffering in hell.

I love when other people are hungover and I’m not.

Life in Your 30’s: Myths Dispelled

22 Feb

There are things that people never tell you as you grow up. Things that you believe will change in your life once you reach your 30’s. We’ll I’m here to straighten you out.

You’ll stop breaking out.
Is there a point when they ever stop? I look nothing like a teenager, and yet my face likes to pretend like I’m still 15. It insists on providing me with a nice pimple from time to time-preferably when I’m going to be around someone that I have a crush on or in some extremely important meeting. Aren’t the hormone levels in my body supposed to change at some point? Do I have to wait until I go through menopause to have clear skin?

There will be no random hook-ups.
When I was younger, I thought that “older” people had a better hold on their hormones. In my mind, they would be able to think ahead, see what was coming, and then talk themselves out of doing it. Self respect and self control, I thought these would come with age. Apparently not. We all seem to experience the same rush that any high schooler or college kid would-only now there’s an incredible sense of desperation. It’s the “I might as well get it when I can” feeling. Let me tell you, it’s a “fabulous” feeling.

As you age, you’re better able to hold your liquor and won’t get hungover.
Lies, complete and total lies. About 7 years ago, I started experiencing this awful new thing: waking up drunk. That has to be one of the world’s worst feelings-especially if I have to spend time with the family or go to work during the day. It gets even “better” when the hangover hits about 2:00 in the afternoon. When I was in college, my hangover would consist of a minor headache. Nowadays, it consists of me enjoying one of the following: the desire to throw myself down the stairs to put myself out of my misery, wishing the waves of nausea would end so I could just die in peace, or having a panic attack in my bed because I know I’m going to puke again.

You’ll have better control of your finances.
Okay, so maybe some people do. I, however, still wonder how $50,000 a year isn’t enough to pay mortgage, electricity, gas, phone, cable, car payment, insurance, credit card payments, and entertainment expenses. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I’d prefer to go out to some fancy restaurant than to pay my phone bill. Those late charges really add up.

You’ll have a family of your own.
Guess what? That knock on my door at the age of 30, you know the one with the instant husband and kids, seems to have stopped by when I wasn’t home. When I was younger I would have sworn on anything that I’d be married with kids by the time I was 25. When I was 25, I was convinced that it would happen by the time I was 30. At 30, I was thinking maybe 33 would be for me. Now at 33, I’m thinking that maybe 40 will work out. Wonder at which point one stops hoping for this?

I’m very much looking forward to what my 40’s will bring. And when I say that “I’m looking forward” to it, I mean I’m totally dreading every second.