Ever heard of Plinky? Its mission, or something, is to help bloggers overcome writer’s block. So a while back, I entered my email address into their website to get “plinky prompts” sent my way. They’re simply questions you can answer to come up with an idea for a blog. Usually, I don’t like them. They’re questions like “Who is your greatest hero of all time?” or “If you could have any job in the world, what would it be?”
For some reason, they don’t seem to lead to particularly interesting blogs. Maybe it’s me, not Plinky. Whatever the reason, today, I feel like trying to answer two of the prompts. See if they’re interesting to you or not, mmkay?
Question #1: Have you ever lied about your age? Why?
A little less than a year ago, I went to lunch at The Dodo with a group of friends. I really only knew one of them, my friend Megs. The other people were her friends she’d met in Hong Kong. Two of the girls were visiting from Australia. Another was a native Utahn who brought her husband along to the dinner—they were newlyweds.
Eventually, the conversation turned to the subject of marriage and the two at the table who had any say in it spoke up. The husband was several years younger than his wife, something that surprised me because of how often a few of my guy friends would reiterate the fact that they would never date an older woman.
The wife was eventually asked, “How’d you do it? How’d you get the younger man?”
Her reply, “I didn’t tell him. For a while.”
She went on to explain he might have had a guess but he didn’t really know until he had already fallen for her.
So I guess that’s how you do it. If you want to snag a younger man, don’t tell him your age.
Okay, fast forward a number of months.
I’m on a blind date with this guys that my younger brother set me up with. They told me that he was younger than me, but didn’t tell me by how much. When I met him, he looked 22. As we talked, I learned that he was at least older than that judging by the amount of time he mentioned it took to get through school, but I only added a few years on to my guess. Maybe 25. I was 29. I thought of that dinner at The Dodo a number of months previous and wasn’t about to start telling this guy about how old I was.
And then we were standing by a pond in Liberty Park and I made a comment about the fish there being the ugliest fish I’d seen in all my years.
“In all your… wait… how old are you?”
What? You can’t ask a girl that question on the first date. Oh great. It’s all over now. I briefly thought of my guy friends and their constant reiterations about never dating an older woman.
Might as well just rip off the bandaid.
I waited for the response. “Ok.”
I didn’t lie.
And I told him how old I was on the first date. So much for waiting until he had already fallen for me.
And yet, he didn’t take me home right away. He even asked me out again. And again. And again.
And now we’re married.
So there you have it. I didn’t keep my age a secret, nor did I lie about it. And my husband isn’t 22 or 25. I’ve got two years and change on him. Lucky me. Lucky Nathan.
Question #2: If you could go back in time and have a 5 minute conversation with yourself ten years ago, what would you say?
I promise it will be worth the wait. Promise.*
*And then, since that won’t fill up the entire 5 minutes, I’d then share some information like, “buy some of these stocks,” or “don’t put Kansas in your 2010 March Madness bracket” and “avoid drafting Chris Johnson for your fantasy team; get Michael Vick instead.” Sound advice.