This getting old stuff sucks. I made it to 53 looking pretty damn good and wrinkle free. For some reason, 53 seemed the magical number that turned it all to hell. I would like to say I have learned to be okay with aging, but I am not. I am still stuck in the "shock and awe" whenever I look in the mirror. Where the fuck are my eyebrows? I look at my Facebook profile photo from 5 years ago and I see dark, full eyebrows. I look in the mirror today and I see scraggly light brown lines, shot through with the occasional dark hair. So pale I now pencil them in. I used to laugh at women who did that. Karma is a bitch.
When doing my eye make up, it never really looks right anymore. What has changed? Well, for starters, my eyelashes. They are now so light colored, they've all but disappeared. This poses a major problem, what shade of eyeshadow goes with silver eyelashes? When you figure it out, send me an email. Also, when you find a mascara that doesn't flake or smudge, give me a jingle. Now my choices are, a) invisible eyelashes or b) flakes of black looking like dirt on my cheeks by mid afternoon. You pick. I constantly find myself wiping the corners of my eyes thinking my makeup has smudged only to find out my eyes have shadows. Shadows that don't come from Maybelline. I have come to the conclusion that its the eyes that really age a woman.
Old eyes. You know what I mean, at least you do if you are over 55. Your eyes themselves just look tired. Where's the sparkle? Doesn't help that the thin skin surrounding them now has "laugh lines", no one is fucking smiling when they discover that, believe me. Retinol might slow the march of time, but nothing short of a big needle full of botox will make them straighten up. Speaking of that, I was watching a tv show the other night and found myself paying more attention to the forehead of the actress rather than the words she was speaking. Her forehead never moved, no up, no down, no wrinkles. Just this expanse of immoveable skin. In fact nothing on her face moved from her nose up. Robotic, too weird. Once you start noticing shit like this,all media involving women over 50 is ruined for you. All you notice is who's had what done, does it look believable or was it an incredibly bad job?
Looking up, where's my hair? I've always had fine hair, but I've always had hair. I've never given up on having thick hair and the shit I'm shellacking and puttying my hair with is seeming to take about half of it with it down the drain when I shampoo. Now I have a choice to make, crummy, thin hair or bald spots?
Looking down, the girls have gone south. Never thought it would happen to me. As recently as last spring, the mammogram technician congratulated me on my still perky breasts. However when I look in the mirror, they seem sadly at half mast, they're still there, just lower. I guess this isn't something to be complained about. My bustier friends admit when on their backs, their boobs are usually in their armpits.
My hands, my beautiful hands. Now they are these weird, spidery wrinkled things. Buttery lotion just turns them into slippery, weird, spidery wrinkled things.
From the waist down, its just sad. I guess I could give up all the things I like to eat, devote myself to the anorexic diets and manic exercise of some of the crazy old ladies I know, but I know in my heart, its not for me. Give me liberty and put some onion rings on the side!
I guess I'm in the transition phase. Maybe I will crystallize at the age of 60 and just stay static. At that point will come acceptance. I know I won't become one of those injected, filled, nipped and tucked bionic women who simply look like weird old women who wanted desperately to stay youthful. Who knows? Maybe I will even quit coloring my hair. Who knows what color it is now? I haven't known since I was 16. I'm pretty sure it will be some shade of gray.Who knows? Maybe I will make a spectacular "gray-hair". I don't want to find out just yet.
Tuesday, December 16, 2014
Saturday, October 25, 2014
Minnesota Crisp
October, the month all Minnesotans long for, dream of. The sweltering humidity of the summer is gone, along with the mosquitoes. The sky is that clear blue that termed the phrase. The golds and yellows of dying prairie grasses, the oranges and reds on the sumac and trees all contrasting in royal beauty. Ducks and geese gather on the ponds, resting during migration. Everyone values fall for its rarity, its brevity. Those who profess to love the verdant and lush greens of spring and summer all lust for fall in their hearts. In a climate known for its extremes, the frigid biting cold of winter and the torrid, dripping sweat of summer, the time frame between final harvest and Yule is short indeed. A time where woodsmoke sends its tendrils to hearts and souls, and the leaves fall like butterflies on migration. This is the month Minnesotans flock to the parks and trails like geese on the wing. Autumn is my favorite season. The season of fulfillment, completion, heading to rest. Relax. Let go and hunker down. The work is done. My soul sighs.
Fall reminds me of the high desert. The muted browns and grays. The quieting landscape. The sense of solitude, wind down. Life is there, but one must look for it amongst the death and decay and evolution to winter. A few flowers still have the courage to bloom, providing spots of color amidst the fallow fields.Winter is on the wind and the time to be at one with nature is now. I seized the moment and headed for the Carver Park Reserve to try to squeeze out the last days before the sun dips too low in the sky and gloom pervades the land.
Stream of consciousness- I am sitting at a picnic table, relishing the quiet of the park. I have selected this spot as it seems so peaceful, distanced from the bicyclists and horseback riders. My solitude is interrupted by a dozen small boys running towards me with bows and arrows. No, this is not some intruding past life memory, but some children out for an afternoon of archery! Of course, the spot I've selected is next to the archery range! At first I am annoyed but then decide the entertainment value might make it worth staying. The boys are from about 8 to 10 years old. They seem under the charge of a fellow who looks about 16. But wait, here comes a guy in his fifties, classic all American 40 pounds overweight, huffing and puffing in a tshirt and old jeans. Uncle Marty?, shouts a lad. Yo!, bellows Uncle Marty. Should I use a green one? Uncle Marty agrees and commences to giving tips on which are the correct "good " arrows to use. Only the green ones and yellows one, they're okay, try to avoid the blue ones, not so good. The kids grab more arrows and all run for a cement slab to stand on to take aim at the targets of various animals pinned to hay bales. Two of the boys hesitate as they realize their spots are right next to where I'm sitting. The desire to shoot arrows take precedence and they commence to stations. The dark haired boy shoots confidently, placing his arrow with a foot of the target. The tow headed boy, himself a picture, with his yellow platinum hair against the sky, looks at me unsurely, awkwardly and then turns to place his arrow. He cannot quite line it up to draw his bow. The dark haired boy says its ok, I was like that too, its probably your first time shooting a bow. My heart warms at his tender words, a tiny flame flickers as I think maybe there IS hope for the future. Kindness and compassion are still alive in the world. I tell the blonde boy, I'm only going to watch you shoot one, then I will leave and not make you nervous. I smile at him and he returns the smile shyly. He shoots. The arrow hits the target, somewhat to my surprise, and his. See? I say. You're a natural, good job! I nod my head. He grins and turns to try again.
I hike on, the trees either stark and majestic against the sky or still tossing their russet and yellow leaves as if demanding of me, see? aren't I beautiful? there are beautiful trees in Minnesota!
Later, I am driving home when movement catches my eye alongside the highway. In a field, a small child of about six is doing that prancing, excited dance of the very young. She is holding a pumpkin about the size of her head, running with her prize, her denim jacket flapping in the wind. Several other kids are rummaging the patch near her. Brothers, sisters? I remember that exciting event, pumpkin picking. A savored treat, being able to select one's own jack-o-lantern. Pick the size you want, the shape. I always was a traditionalist and went for the most round specimen I could find.
The rest of the seasons in Minnesota are superfluous. Only the die hard martyrs have convinced themselves they love winter here. Spring is usually disappointing, a couple weeks of chill rain usually preluding the plunge into towering dew points, where the only comfort at night is searching for that one cool spot on your sheets.
Autumn in Minnesota is a reward. An endurance reward.
Fall reminds me of the high desert. The muted browns and grays. The quieting landscape. The sense of solitude, wind down. Life is there, but one must look for it amongst the death and decay and evolution to winter. A few flowers still have the courage to bloom, providing spots of color amidst the fallow fields.Winter is on the wind and the time to be at one with nature is now. I seized the moment and headed for the Carver Park Reserve to try to squeeze out the last days before the sun dips too low in the sky and gloom pervades the land.
Stream of consciousness- I am sitting at a picnic table, relishing the quiet of the park. I have selected this spot as it seems so peaceful, distanced from the bicyclists and horseback riders. My solitude is interrupted by a dozen small boys running towards me with bows and arrows. No, this is not some intruding past life memory, but some children out for an afternoon of archery! Of course, the spot I've selected is next to the archery range! At first I am annoyed but then decide the entertainment value might make it worth staying. The boys are from about 8 to 10 years old. They seem under the charge of a fellow who looks about 16. But wait, here comes a guy in his fifties, classic all American 40 pounds overweight, huffing and puffing in a tshirt and old jeans. Uncle Marty?, shouts a lad. Yo!, bellows Uncle Marty. Should I use a green one? Uncle Marty agrees and commences to giving tips on which are the correct "good " arrows to use. Only the green ones and yellows one, they're okay, try to avoid the blue ones, not so good. The kids grab more arrows and all run for a cement slab to stand on to take aim at the targets of various animals pinned to hay bales. Two of the boys hesitate as they realize their spots are right next to where I'm sitting. The desire to shoot arrows take precedence and they commence to stations. The dark haired boy shoots confidently, placing his arrow with a foot of the target. The tow headed boy, himself a picture, with his yellow platinum hair against the sky, looks at me unsurely, awkwardly and then turns to place his arrow. He cannot quite line it up to draw his bow. The dark haired boy says its ok, I was like that too, its probably your first time shooting a bow. My heart warms at his tender words, a tiny flame flickers as I think maybe there IS hope for the future. Kindness and compassion are still alive in the world. I tell the blonde boy, I'm only going to watch you shoot one, then I will leave and not make you nervous. I smile at him and he returns the smile shyly. He shoots. The arrow hits the target, somewhat to my surprise, and his. See? I say. You're a natural, good job! I nod my head. He grins and turns to try again.
I hike on, the trees either stark and majestic against the sky or still tossing their russet and yellow leaves as if demanding of me, see? aren't I beautiful? there are beautiful trees in Minnesota!
Later, I am driving home when movement catches my eye alongside the highway. In a field, a small child of about six is doing that prancing, excited dance of the very young. She is holding a pumpkin about the size of her head, running with her prize, her denim jacket flapping in the wind. Several other kids are rummaging the patch near her. Brothers, sisters? I remember that exciting event, pumpkin picking. A savored treat, being able to select one's own jack-o-lantern. Pick the size you want, the shape. I always was a traditionalist and went for the most round specimen I could find.
The rest of the seasons in Minnesota are superfluous. Only the die hard martyrs have convinced themselves they love winter here. Spring is usually disappointing, a couple weeks of chill rain usually preluding the plunge into towering dew points, where the only comfort at night is searching for that one cool spot on your sheets.
Autumn in Minnesota is a reward. An endurance reward.
Monday, January 20, 2014
Tips on How to "Live Juicy"
"Living juicy" are current buzzwords meaning engaging fully in life and living each day to the fullest. What living juicy is to you, is, of course, strictly subjective. I find myself going through a mid life review (don't want to say crisis because fortunately, I have come this far without anything that in the big picture, can really be called crises, though this too, is an objective/subjective term). What I have found works for me to keep me vital, happy, content are the following, but by no means all , of course. Perhaps some may resonate with you.
Have the white chocolate peppermint latte instead of just a black coffee
Instead of the French manicure, get purple polish
Grow or buy flowers in the dead of a Minnesota winter
Tell someone working hard at their minimum wage that they do a great job and that they made your day
order dessert
even and especially if its inconvenient to you, reach out and help someone else
color your hair red, even if its just once
wear color instead of your usual black, white, beige wardrobe
if you always read fiction, pick up an autobiography or interesting reference book
go to a psychic
seems cliche, but go barefoot outside
break the bank and buy that miracle cream you've always heard about
wear green eyeshadow, not your usual brown
have a second drink or glass of wine with dinner
go on a vacation and spend at least one night at a wildly expensive hotel
try a massage
surprise a few trick or treaters at Halloween with really BIG candy bars
send an older woman an anonymous shot at a bar
tell someone NO when they ask you to do something you really don't want to do but they've come to expect, don't feel you have to explain why
if you can, adopt one more pet from a shelter or rescue
give $20 to someone randomly, insist you saw it drop out of their coat
instead of the fruit and yogurt, have the biscuits and gravy
lay down in the middle of a really big field
stop and help a turtle cross the road
have a glass of champagne and watch the sunset from somewhere cozy, or if you don't have a view, just watch the world outside soften and go dark
eat the donuts at the staff meeting, don't have them be the white elephants in the room everything is just thinking of and staring at
I have actually done all of these or a variation of these, some repeatedly.After reading a few of my juicy tips, I am sure you can think of your own. Obviously we can't do them ALL every day, we don't want to turn into alcoholic, overweight people who are broke and wearing green eyeshadow, but remember to try something today that brings you joy and makes you feel alive.
Have the white chocolate peppermint latte instead of just a black coffee
Instead of the French manicure, get purple polish
Grow or buy flowers in the dead of a Minnesota winter
Tell someone working hard at their minimum wage that they do a great job and that they made your day
order dessert
even and especially if its inconvenient to you, reach out and help someone else
color your hair red, even if its just once
wear color instead of your usual black, white, beige wardrobe
if you always read fiction, pick up an autobiography or interesting reference book
go to a psychic
seems cliche, but go barefoot outside
break the bank and buy that miracle cream you've always heard about
wear green eyeshadow, not your usual brown
have a second drink or glass of wine with dinner
go on a vacation and spend at least one night at a wildly expensive hotel
try a massage
surprise a few trick or treaters at Halloween with really BIG candy bars
send an older woman an anonymous shot at a bar
tell someone NO when they ask you to do something you really don't want to do but they've come to expect, don't feel you have to explain why
if you can, adopt one more pet from a shelter or rescue
give $20 to someone randomly, insist you saw it drop out of their coat
instead of the fruit and yogurt, have the biscuits and gravy
lay down in the middle of a really big field
stop and help a turtle cross the road
have a glass of champagne and watch the sunset from somewhere cozy, or if you don't have a view, just watch the world outside soften and go dark
eat the donuts at the staff meeting, don't have them be the white elephants in the room everything is just thinking of and staring at
I have actually done all of these or a variation of these, some repeatedly.After reading a few of my juicy tips, I am sure you can think of your own. Obviously we can't do them ALL every day, we don't want to turn into alcoholic, overweight people who are broke and wearing green eyeshadow, but remember to try something today that brings you joy and makes you feel alive.
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