I drafted an email to friends announcing a big cream-soda-and-whiskey-float event for my birthday; then thought I’d try evite instead of a boring old sans-serif email.
So I searched. The only evites available for a Whorety birthday party are pathetic “40 and Fabulous” cries for help and “40 is the new 20” disgusting repudiations of age and wisdom.
Twenty sucks. Nothing should be the new twenty because once we’re done with that nonsense we should never have to go back.
Forty and fabulous? Shut up. Only those who fear they’re not fabulous, and who add twenty minutes to their already staggering ablutive rituals use phrasing like that. Forty and fabulous echoes in my cynical ears like something Ivana Trump would say. *shudder* I am fabulous at any age, you Hallmarkian manipulators of people’s insecurities. Geez. Evite is becoming the deodorant ad of the new millennium. “You stink and nobody likes you, but buy this and you might be approachable.”
So I searched evite for “midlife crisis” cards. Nothing. But their searchbot did offer to fix my typos. “Did you mean midnight Irish?”
At least…I don’t think so.
Wait. Is that a thing? Is that a party thing? Are the kids these days celebrating the midnight Irish? I could try to be midnight Irish if that makes me more cool than being 40. I mean, I’m Irish in the morning, Irish at noon, and Irish at night. Am I somehow party worthy if I’m Irish at midnight? Oh, dear, I need to become midnight Irish soon, because evite doesn’t think my midlife crisis is worthy of a party.
Maybe Irish at midnight the new twenty? Let’s all hurry up, then, and schedule a midnight Irish event.
(Related note: time to start using someecards for invitations.)