For some strange reason every time I have a PET-CT scan (well okay, I’ve only had two in my life) but both times I had an out of body experience. Today was a doozie.
I’ve been trying to finish the first draft of a new book I hope to get out by October 31 – Halloween seems appropriate since the book is entitled “Aging Fearlessly.” But I feel like a complete fraud because I’m not following my own advice and the great unknown has me quivering in my fuzzy house slippers and my favorite tee shirt which proclaims “Aging is the New Black.”
Haven’t you seen people who seem to have a perpetual “bitch face” – scowl lines around the mouth and the number 11 embedded between their eyebrow? I just discovered when I’m not smiling – I have both.
The make-up mega-monster, Lancôme, claims that society is becoming less youth obsessed. But from my vantage point (at the top of a twisted old tree), I don’t see it. I’m still avoiding aging at any cost, and I’ve tried practically every new product rolled out by Lancôme to no avail.
Call me old-fashioned if you must, but it’s perfectly fine. I’m an old-fashioned girl. I love riding on a train and it probably has something to do with my babysitter 60 years ago (I think her name was Annie) who walked me down to the tracks to watch the “Rebel” whiz through West Point, MS. about dusk in summer.
I waved wildly to the nice man on the Caboose and walked back home certain I would marry that man someday..
“Not knowing the answer to your question and having a high regard for the truth, I feel a hesitancy in articulating for fear of prevaricating unintentially.”
That quote from Miss Elizabeth, our beloved English teacher who single handedly improved the English language for an entire generation may be the only thing I remember from this wonderful, crazy, messy weekend.
I am a woman caught up in the 60s – the early sixties. This weekend I had a double dose of my favorite everything –