Not bad for a fat girl


That Pesky Whisker

I first noticed it a few years back. It was totally random. For some reason my finger grazed across that exact spot under my chin, and there it was. A whisker.

fun tweezers from MAC, totally unlike mine

fun tweezers from MAC, totally unlike mine

I’m not talking about a hair, although technically a whisker is a type of hair. I’m talking about the bristly, pokey, fill-in-a-man’s-face with them kind of whisker. At least it wasn’t black.

This whisker concerned me. Why did I have a whisker? What else didn’t I know? Were there others I was unaware of?

I rarely wear cosmetics, and I’m a pretty no-fuss kind of girl, so I really don’t check myself out very carefully. What else was going on that I didn’t know about?

A close inspection followed, and I was satisfied that the whisker was a renegade. Why this lone wolf chose to set up shop on my chin I may never know, but now that I was aware of it, I was determined to take it down. Continue reading

Leave a comment

The Things I Used to Know

Confused-Brain-300x300I’m trying to add some nifty little images to my blog to let everyone who stops by know that I’m participating in NaNoWriMo and NaBloPoMo this month, but the brain cells that used to know how to do that seem to have disappeared. I really did know how to do all that funky cool stuff at one time, just take a look at my sidebar for proof. However, ever since the botched Twitter link (hanging my head in shame over that one) I seem to have lost my touch.

Just thinking about all the things I used to know makes me a little sad, and a little nostalgic for the time when I had a more or less fully functioning brain inside my head. I don’t know what happened, call it middle age or worse, but I have a hunch I know what’s going on inside that muddled noggin.

Here’s my theory: there is only so much space for information, and I’ve started to fill it up. It’s like a fragmented hard drive, there’s not too many big spaces left for ideas, so new thoughts get broken apart and shoved into the tiny empty areas that are left. Then the brain has to work extra hard to find the various random tidbits that I’m searching for, and sometimes it gets lost in the mess and gives up. No, of course you don’t understand what I’m talking about, but that’s okay, I didn’t expect you to. It’s my sloppy brain, so it makes sense that only I would understand the system.

Okay, am I scaring you? Don’t worry, I don’t really take any of this seriously. I do know, however, that I don’t retain information nearly as well as I used to, and I honestly do think that’s because as the years march on there’s so much more in there. I’ve said many times that if I could only “dump” lyrics to songs I don’t even like I would free up tons of brain space for more productive pursuits. As long as I know the words to virtually every top 40 song over at least a two decade span, there isn’t much hope of me  developing alternate fuel sources or stemming the latest Ebola outbreak. On the other hand, if you’re looking for the lyrics to the soundtrack from Grease, I’m your go-to girl.


Can You Go Back?

I attended my high school reunion over the weekend. We do this ritual every ten years or so, and I haven’t missed one yet. I was sorry that some of my classmates couldn’t attend due to distance and schedules and the general nuts and bolts of life, but that’s to be expected. It doesn’t diminish the event for me if every friend I’ve ever had can’t be there. In fact, there were more than enough people there for me to try to figure out who’s who.hs1

I have to tell you, overall my classmates look pretty darn good to me. As a group they have aged well. Sure, there are a few exceptions but overall they don’t look a whole lot different than they did way back when, except that now they look like adults. Well, most of them. I swear there are two or three who got stuck in some soft of funky time warp thing.

I’ve been thinking about the weekend and all the people I saw, and what struck me was how much positive energy I felt with that group. It makes sense, doesn’t it? The people who are feeling pretty good about life, and don’t mind spending the time and energy it takes to get to the reunion (even if they live around the corner) are the ones who show up. The ones who are struggling stay at home. Those who hated high school or who hate people in general can’t be bothered to come to this event. That’s okay. I’m not saying high school is the be all, end all. Quite the opposite. In fact, I was struck by how little of the conversation had anything to do with high school at all. Time and again I caught up with people and learned what their lives are like now. There have been triumphs and tragedies, but nobody seemed to dwell in the past.

I was glad to see that. I think of the old Bruce Springsteen song, “Glory Days” and feel relieved that I’m part of a group that isn’t living that depressing reality. Our best days are not behind us. Our best days are everyday. Can you go back? Certainly, as long as you continue to simultaneously go forward.