So, if you are sick of me talking about turning 50 this year, fair enough, I get it. I will see you in 2019. I went to the Dr for my physical this week and got slapped with some reality. My blood work was not great. Without going into too much detail, I was forced to end my relationship with butter. We have been in love as long as I can remember. We were destined to be together from my first heel of Italian bread with butter. Now, thanks to some high numbers (I officially hate math more than ever) I am saying goodbye. I don’t know what I will do without you. Mayo, although delicious, is gross on a pound of pasta with cheese and black pepper. Nothing is the same. I can blame menopause all I want but menopause didn’t walk into my kitchen and force feed me. I did this to myself. This realization sucks more than anything because I can’t blame anyone. I love blaming others. I love butter. I hate all things not butter.
While my list of things I must say goodbye to grows I think about regret. I wonder why I have none. I have a conscience. I feel guilty and thanks to the fact that my blood is basically in solid form, I have fear. Those are feelings. Those are feelings I am now forced to feel. I HATE FEELINGS. I hate your feelings and I really hate my feelings. I love French fries. I will miss those as well. I am wondering why I don’t regret.
I still see most of my close friends from high school. I saw one of my friends today. I will call her Dolly. Dolly was one of the first friends I had that challenged me to be my best. It didn’t work. I am an underachiever. I always have been. It doesn’t mean I am lazy. I am a hard worker. I love making money and the hustle that goes with it. I am an underachiever because I always chose fun over school. I was smart. I still am. Now, I am smart enough to know, I don’t know shit. Enlightened some would say. Early onset doesn’t give a fuck, I say. In school, Dolly and I were co-editors of the school newspaper. She was the total brains behind the operation. I was the brawn. I would piss people off and she would smooth it over. Pretty one-sided. Dolly got from me, well, nothing. I got from her, an example. Capri says that Dolly is the most capable person we know. She is right. Dolly never complained about anything. She still doesn’t. She will tell me the drama of her family or her job and then she says things like, “Eh what are you gonna do?” I’d be on fucking drugs with a pound of salted butter in my pocketbook if I had been through some of her shit. She always amazed me that she bitches or moans. She has had medical problems and endures pain with blinking an eye.
This leads me to our conversation today. We were talking about being young and regret. I told her the only thing I would do over would be to amp up my already caustic personality. I tell her I don’t regret not being in AP classes. I don’t regret anyone I ever fucked. I don’t regret any pint of ice cream or pound of pasta or steak or sandwich. If I ever get a do-over, I am going to eat more. I don’t regret any cigarette or cocktail. I don’t regret my career choices, even though I am broke. I don’t regret any tear shed, any insult thrown, none of it. I am going on and on and what she says shows the kind of brilliant, evil genius she is. She will listen to me and with one breath she shows me why she is so much smarter than me.
Dolly: So you don’t regret anything?
Me: I just told you I don’t. None of it matters. There is no permanent record that exists. Well, maybe a rap sheet. I don’t have one of those. Do you regret anything?
Dolly: Yeah. I regret not fucking older guys with money when I had the chance.
Me: When did you have the chance?
Dolly: I had a million chances.
The thing is she really did. She is the most capable person I know and she chose love and hard work over money. She doesn’t regret that. Anything the girl ever did, she did for love. I call her an idiot. She agrees and then tells me that her tits are still better than mine. She’s right.
So my friend, here is to you and your hot tits on the dawn of your fiftieth birthday. No real regrets. P.S. Nice tits aside, I am still younger than you!