Two weeks ago, I didn't watch the VMA’s because I didn’t recognize anyone.
Like, anyone. (Nicki who?)
You know what I watched instead?
I watched Beaches. On TV. With commercials.
Because I’m old.
This morning, I was plucking my eyebrows and found one renegade white hair in the mix.
A mix of bewilderment and horror came upon me.
I had to put my glasses on (because I’m old) and pluck that scary lil' sucker out.
I think I might have even looked over both shoulders to make sure no one saw.
(I live alone).
And just before, I saw some Jonas-brother-guy premiere his sexy new music video and felt completely creepy for finding him hot.
You know why?
Because as I was watching him straddle some girl, I realized: he’s half my age!
When did this happen?
When did I slink into my mid-thirties?
Nobody asked me if I wanted to be here yet!
If you would go back in time and give a glimpse to my 17 year old self at where she would be at 34…
She would most definitely not be impressed with the Beaches thing.
She would look at Future Me with an incredulous expression.
She would say, “What the fuck? Where’s all the money we were going to make? Aren’t we famous? You’re what? Single?! “(echo echo echo)
And then she would cry into a bag of Humpty Dumpty BBQ chips..
And Will Smith would have to show up and zap that thing so she could forget the whole ordeal.
You see that?
See what I just did?
I referenced a movie from 1997.
I rest my case.