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 |    My random thoughts and reactions to my everyday life. The voices like a forum. |
| I do not know quite what happened or when , but my hubby and I now qualify for seniors' discounts at some venues. This creates a quandary; in order to save money, but not face, we have to admit to our age. HMMMM..... We definitely do not consider ourselves to be old. In this day and age ,when people as a whole are living longer and healthier lives why are 'young seniors', those in their fifties, like moi, considered 'old'?? It's so true that age is just a perception! "Maturity" is very objective/subjective, and I object! Whew, a few years have skittered by since I composed this biography block. Those "fifties" are in the rear view mirror and they are distant, fond memories. Oh, I do not plan to stop writing any time soon. |
| PROMPT September 24th We think we know other people, and feel they know us. However, maybe they don't know us as well as they think. Tell us five things friends don’t know about you. (Don't share anything you aren't comfortable with sharing!) No one knows, at least I do not think they've noticed, (yet), but I seem to be morphing into a grumpy old man. Things, random things, irritate me. I am baffled by young men who shuffle about in their over-sized jeans belted somewhere around their knee caps. I dislike hearing "yo." Why does there seem to be a gangster-worship culture? Tattoos are no longer relegated to the body. Face and skull tats are prevalent. Now many people sport body piercings. One woman bedazzled her chest with fake gemstone piercings. What the heck are those gigantic round lobe piercings that leave ears with a sizeable hole? When and why did underwear become outer wear? Should I be muttering, "Bah, humbug?" I cannot saunter past garbage strewn on the ground and not pick it up. Am I compulsive? I feel an urge to clean it up and dispose of it in a refuse receptacle. In a store, I will retrieve items from the floor, a shirt, a shoe, a book, a bottle of shampoo, whatever. A few years ago I experienced a slip and fall in a grocery store and I still recall my thudding, painful collision with the unforgiving floor. I'd stepped into a gooey puddle of something spilled and ignored. At a library, or a bookstore I browse the children's section. I enjoy the creative, colourful illustrations as I read the stories. I struggle with the concept and the execution of 'no.' If asked to babysit, or chauffeur, or "just run in for something will you" I rarely say no. Do I need to be needed? I bite my tongue a lot. Of course, I have opinions, but I mainly keep them to myself. I've committed my own blunders and I believe others should be free to make their own, but... Entire discussions play out in my mind. |
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