As long as I can remember I have been searching for something just beyond my grasp. If I had a good hair day, I wanted a great hair day. If my bathroom floor was shiny and clean, I wanted it to be made of marble.
Several people have asked who my models were for the front cover of my book “Love, Laughter & Losing my Keys.” Well, they are my best friends for five decades including from left Norma Clark Atkins, yours truly who is high on Ensure – seriously, that’s what we are drinking (or was it a Cosmopolitan, I forget) , Brenda Wiygul Chambliss, and Marie Portera.
Remember the Infamous cigarette machine? There was a time when they were in every restaurant and practically on every street corner. Thank goodness those days are over. If I recall, a pack was a quarter back in the 60s. What are they today? About $5?
I let the stupidest non-issues get on my last nerve and turn me into a raging termagant which, for your information, is the female version of an old curmudgeon.
Remember that word “termagant” because if you’re female you’re probably carrying the gene. The condition begins to present itself with advancing age and loss of the inhibitions which once kept us civil and gave us the reputation as “sweet young things.” The aging beauty can turn into the beast if you get her riled up. But hey, it is what it is, right?