You’re only young once. After that you have to come up with another excuse. ~unknown

Today is my birthday. Yippee. Last year was momentous because I turned 45. Yet, other than hiding the birthday year on my facebook page, it really wasn’t a big deal.

But this year… 46. WTF? Thank you. I know. I don’t look a day over 44. I’ve been obsessed with my age over the last few days. Weeks. Okay, months.

A man has every season while a woman only has the right to spring. That disgusts me. ~ Jane Fonda

My husband–although no more mature than he was when I first met him in our 20’s–is getting better looking with age. While I grow hair on my upper lip. Well, that’s what my 9-year old son tells me.

Photo: flickr.com | RandallMRueff

This particular birthday—another year closer to 50—is, well, freaking me out. I find myself wondering who the F am I and WTF am I doing? All of which happens to coincide with one of my hormonal ‘moments’ (which can last a day, a week–sometimes longer–and include irritation to music, talking, household duties, making myself look presentable and just about anything else you can think of).

Age is not a particularly interesting subject. Anyone can get old. All you have to do is live long enough. ~Groucho Marx

Okay, that makes me think, what’s interesting about me? I write, play piano, am able to draw pretty damn well, eat healthy and organic as much as possible (is that interesting?). I may be on my way to being the crazy lady with a zoo of animals and insects: I allow spiders to take up residence in our household ( if too large, they’re placed carefully outdoors, but I worry if I’m separating them from their family); I feed a maimed mama raccoon who visits our deck on occasion; I don’t want to kill the mice scurrying around in our walls, occasionally taunting our cats. How long do they suffer after ingesting poison? What if a mouse trap just wounds them, making them suffer even more? I can’t kill a fly and am traumatized when children go fishing. Nobody can convince me that catch and release fishing is humane. A friend asked me,  “Why, do you think fish actually have nerves?” The nerve!

A woman past forty should make up her mind to be young; not her face. ~Billie Burke

I’m all about making the world a better place for my child. I want to make a difference. But all of my work will add up to nothing if I spend too many days cranky or worrying about wrinkles and becoming less attractive. And, hell, I have the body of a 20 year old, if you erase the cellulite (yes, even thin/fit people have that). Oh, and the age spots and wrinkles. Back to the positive: I even have a belly button ring, thank you very much.

The older I get, the better I used to be. ~unknown

Anti-aging is drummed into our head. Not looking or feeling old is a priority when you hit 40, if not before. They (the evil yet genious anti-aging industry bozos) say it’s never too early to start an anti-aging regime. Not such a big deal for men who seem to look better with age. But they still go for looking young, which only makes women look worse. Why have I bought into our society’s perspective on aging?

With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come.  ~William Shakespeare [Merchant Of Venice]

Every time I turn around, there’s another world’s best, most effective anti aging cream, serum and ingestible tonic all claiming to use the best science available. Do not fall victim to aging, they say!

Me in rejuvenating, anti-aging mud mask.

Take 10 years off your face. Hollywood’s secrets to looking younger. Fight against the effects of aging for only $19.99 plus shipping and handling. Take the wrinkle challenge. Improve signs of aging. Combat aging! Stop wrinkles! Look younger today! 5 secret tips to staying young! Knee wrinkles? No more!

It takes about 10 years to get used to how old you are. As we grow old…the beauty steals inward. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Why do we have to fight aging? It’s inevitable. Not the fight, but aging itself. Unless you happen to die.

I’m curious… once you take 10 years off your face, what do you do 10 years later? Take 10 years off so you look like you you would have looked 10 years ago if you didn’t take the 10 years off in the first place? What’s the effin’ point? I know one thing for sure: I do not want to look like Joan Rivers.

Life would be infinitely happier if we could only be born at the age of eighty and gradually approach eighteen. ~Mark Twain

Would it?

Youth is the gift of nature, but age is a work of art. ~ Garson Kanin

When I was 16, I looked 12 with a stick figure body, braces and gnarly hair. My grandmother claimed I would be happy with this discrepancy one day. When I hit 40, nobody could believe it. Some would practically keel over upon hearing my age, thinking I had to be in my 20’s (now that was a stretch, even I know that–but they may have not been studying the wrinkles on my face. The fact I was going through a pig tail phase didn’t hurt). I was actually proud to blurt out my age from 40 to 44-ish.

In the last couple of years, people seem less surprised. Or they even say nothing. Or: You’re 46? Remember when Nixon got impeached (and yes, I remember that)? And now there’s night sweats and mood swings and being tired at 7 pm because I woke up at 4am. I could go on, but that would get boring.

When your friends begin to flatter you on how young you look, it’s a sure sign you’re getting old.  ~Mark Twain

Hold on! If Mark Twain’s right, I must be looking younger! But why should that even matter in life?! I am conflicted. Can you tell?

Dylan Barmmer made my day when he wrote this poem for me:

May your birthday be oh so very
funky fresh free full of Love and
Light and just the right touch of
decadent delicious dark like
chocolate or sticky sweaty sex
may this be your best year yet
better than all the rest assured
you can go and do and be all the
things you want to be just be
just be the very best Lynn you can
be and the rest will flow and go
and come from there yes you know
this will be your year so sit back
and relax and thank you for being
here and sharing with us you are
the sweetest kind of gift

I Believe I Can Fly is going through my head. I went for a run. Just a little over 3 miles, but fairly fast (at least for me). It felt great. It’s a bit chilly, but the sun was shining and a hawk soared over my head at one point, landing in a tree that still clung to some reddish yellow leaves almost as white-knuckled as I’m clinging to looking young.

Me, checking on that new wrinkle.

I can do this aging thing. I’m alive. I’m healthy–even healthier than when I was in my 20’s, dammit.  There’s a whole world out there for me to experience. I have much to be thankful for! Wonderful and supportive family and friends. A phenomenal, kind son who makes me laugh. A husband I’m currently mad at, but oh well–he’s generally a very good, sarcastic-from-New York kind of guy with a large dose of integrity and love. It’s all good.

I love to see a young girl go out and grab the world by the lapels. Life’s a bitch. You’ve got to go out and kick ass.  ~Maya Angelou

When I’m 80, I’ll look back at this time and realize how ridiculous this is. I’ll think, “Gosh, I was so young then. And I was almost as sexy as I am now! What the fuck was my problem? How self-absorbed! Fuckin’ vain!” Not sure I’ll say the f-word when I’m 80 since I rarely, if ever, mutter it now.

If I have to get older, then so do you.  Hope this will be a happy day for you, as well as all of the days of the year. ~ my 80+ year old Aunt Dolores

I’m guessing many of you readers are out there saying WTF?! But this is my thought process. I can’t help that it exists in my head… and now here in this elephantjournal.com post. I can only adjust my attitude. And I will. Or life will not be fun at all.

Time to celebrate another year of life… and still being sorta sexy.

Check back in another 4 years when I write about what it’s like to turn 50. If I die first, then the joke’s on me.