Bad Movies and Age

"The Object of My Affection," which I watched Friday evening, is one of the worst movies I have seen in a long time. It's one of those movies that has a preview that sums up the entire movie in 30 seconds. That's all you need to see. The story is weak, the acting is mediocre, and Paul Rudd's character is gay. After the movie was over, it continued to disappoint me when I saw that it is in the comedy genre. It was a straight-up drama with absolutely no humor. The movie was also described as having a strong female lead. The female lead character seemed incredibly needy and histrionic, and I would not call her character strong. It did apply to the theme of my last few weeks about letting go of something or someone who is unavailable, about how it's a waste of time and causes a lot of pain that could be avoided if one thought a little more before letting herself become emotionally attached. The scenery was dull, nobody wore interesting outfits, and ... did I mention Paul Rudd's character was gay? I think I did. One interesting thing about the movie to me is that it was released in 1998, and Paul Rudd and Jennifer Aniston look incredibly young. They both look good now, 11 years later, but it's interesting to see the process of aging of thirty-something people, through a period of 11 years, to forty-something people.
On Thursday, one of my coworkers was cleaning up old piles of papers long forgotten about that were sitting in unused mailboxes. There was a biography of me that I had written, which I had been asked to write, about myself when I first came to the organization I work for nearly six years ago. I realized how much I had been through in the six years of working there, reading through what I had written when I first started. Attached to it was a photo, which I had been asked to provide, of me. The photo was taken about eight years ago. I don't have very many photos of myself, especially in the years following the birth of my children -- that would be the last 14 years. Anyway, my coworker thought it would be funny to put up the biography of me with the photo. He said I look really young in the photo. He didn't quite say everything on his mind, holding back probably to not offend me about how I have changed a lot in the past eight years. I don't get upset about aging; and I feel like I'm improving in wisdom and maturity and taking responsibility as I get older, so it feels like a good thing. About six years ago, I heard the first comment about me getting older, when a friend told me, "You look good for your age." I can't remember if there was a long pause between "you look good" and the qualifier "for your age," but I don't think it matters. I had never felt old until then. I realized that was just the beginning.