Nineteen? NINETEEN?! And the rest…

Crete 2015 455

Just for a lark yesterday, I entered one of those Facebook quizzy doodads. You know the sort of thing I mean: What is your IQ in Smarties? Read your true age through your posterial wrinkles! Guess your star sign through your own ear wax… That kind of malarkey!

This one promised to tell you how old you looked based on an online photograph – and, as if that weren’t exciting enough, how old your posts suggested you were.

With me so far? I ask because it took me a while to hoist this utterly riveting premise on board!

Now, I have never made any bones about my age (fifty-eight and three quarters as of tomorrow), so my expectation was that the photographic evidence statistic would be higher than the writing evidence. Frankly, I would’ve been more than happy to settle for mid-to-late forties on the former and mid-to-late thirties on the latter. I know I look younger than I am – but not by that much!

So, my vitals were well and truly stapped when the (obviously faulty!) calculator gave me an age, based on one photograph, of NINETEEN!

Nineteen?!! I wish! How utterly ludicrous. On a good day, with the light behind me and a favourable prevailing wind, I can look as if I am still in my forties (if only by the skin of my teeth) – but a teenager? Nope!

I know all the rumours about Capricorns: That we, as a breed, have this Reverse Ageing thing going on (allegedly), possibly to make up for the fact that so many of us resembled tiny nonagenarians when in our formative years – but there are limits. Ye gods, at this rate, I shall be more reminiscent of a foetus than a proper ‘uman bean by the time I reach sixty in fifteen months’ (and one day: very important, that one day!) time.

I know, I know, this all just goes to show how ludicrous these online ‘games’ are, and how credulous (and vain!) I am for engaging with them. Still and all, there was a tiny moment of, ‘Wow!’ going on in amongst the carpet-biting laughter and cameloid sneering.

But I have to end this with the vividly-remembered mindset (and consummate irony) of actually being a teenager – and the weird longing to look older, to look like an adult, to be an adult…

Why? Oh why?!

Just goes to show that youth really is wasted on the young!

Oh! And according to Mystic Medusa (or whoever was behind this latest Guess Yer Age stall at the Fair we call Facebook) my age based on my writing is thirty-six!

Superficial? Undeniably! But it made me laugh!


9 thoughts on “Nineteen? NINETEEN?! And the rest…

  1. Julie

    When we were wishing to be adults, we wanted, I think, to feel free, strong and in control: all things denied or in short supply when we are young but apparently plentiful in adulthood… Looks were not the issue then. ( at least not to me).

    As adults, it is looks that is the issue. Vanity. Vanity being, ironically , the fear of losing control, of being weak and of becoming inconsequential. So, have we ever been truly free and strong? That is the question….

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Julie

        Maybe. But between two to five thousands years of emotional manipulation has left its mark on our psyche and few women are born free and strong….


  2. I can assure you, without any doubt in my mind, that there is absolutely no fault with that particular application. After all, it put me at 18 (based on the image of an 18 year old polar currently being used as my profile image over there…) Spot on, then… :p

    Liked by 1 person

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