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I forgot I had a personal wordpress blog until someone reminded me of it. Duh. I feel kind of sheepish.
The only blogging I’ve been doing lately is on 2W, Second Wind Publishing. I haven’t seen my own blog for over a year. WordPress was either very kind or just too lazy to delete it.
Since it’s still here, I guess I’ll start blogging a little bit. I don’t anticipate making much of a dent in the internet’s blogasphere. However, that won’t stop me from using this as a 10″ x 10″ soap box to stand on.
Without further adieu, here’s something I was thinking about today that kind of fits with the topic of forgetting you have your own personal blog:
I Don’t Want to Grow Younger (or, The Value of Getting Older)
1. Slow motion. I can walk at my own pace without anyone getting irritated that I won’t keep up. I can still move very fast when I want to, but sometimes, I don’t wanna.
2. Hearing. I’ve always been a little hard of hearing; I blame all the rock concerts I went to during my younger days. Now, I can get people to repeat what they say – not because I didn’t hear it, but because I wasn’t paying attention the first four times.
3. Paying attention. It’s an old-age deficit that is more excusable now then it was ten years ago. Instead of saying, “Never mind,” I can get them to tell their story over and over again until I get bored.
4. Clothes. I can get away with wearing anything as long as it’s age-appropriate. Dressing like I did in my twenties is strangely age-appropriate because we all dressed like old people back then.
5. Forgetting. See #3. That’s always been my excuse.
There is an acquaintance of mine (I can’t stand her, but I can’t erase her from my memory, so, “acquaintance” will do until my amnesia kicks in) who is stuck in the early 90’s with her bleached hair, clunky shoes, tasteless gobs of jewelry, and weird sleeveless clothing that she wore back when she was in her 20’s. She’s pushing 40 now. She can’t blame OLD age yet. She’s just older than she wants to be. To her I say, it’s a new century, ya weirdo – try to keep up.
Old is the new cool. Just look at Betty White. She’s my old coot mentor.