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Saturday, August 18, 2018

60 Happens

I snapped awake at goddamn 2AM. 'the fuck!? 

Well, fer fuck’s sake, I’d just clocked over into my sixth decade. This epic aging shit doesn’t happen every damn day, don'cha know. Also too, isn't this way more than enough to rip anyone out of Morpheus’s gentle embrace?

Just FYI – yes. Yes it is.
I’m also blaming the hotel and their damn full length mirrors for my sleepless state. Of course I am!

 I don’t have these vile, unavoidable instruments of a caustic and unforgiving god at home. Why not? I have a tiny home and ART. I’d rather be looking at drawings, paintings, photographs – beauty, weirdness, dreamscapes and such. Wouldn’t you?

The point here, apparently, in this past month of limited to zero exercise (recovery from cataract surgery plus two falls, holding the freight for this) fat cells have moved back in and multiplied like so many libidinous chubby rabbits.

No, I’m not back up in Jabba range but I ain’t as trim as I wanna be neither. Paraphrasing the fuck outta good old Bobby Frost, I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I can fit into my old bathing suit again.

Can I drop ten pounds in the two weeks before I fly west to meet Sky? *moof* Unlikely. *double plus moof*

Not helping matters is my mondo appreciation of food, glorious food. I like salads BUT I wouldn't call us besties. Nope, not by a long shot.

Last night, Jen, Michal and I hit the local, fabola Japanese joint for some magnifico sushi. Michal let the cat outta the bag about my special day so the restaurant staff popped a festive chapeau on ma tĂȘte, sang Happy Birthday (though it could have been In A Gadda Da Vida – deaf here ‘member?) and presented me with a grilled banana floating in chocolate sauce. MMMMMMMM!

Now then, there is actual good news on this first morning of old croneness. At 1AM – that being the hour I slid out mi madre’s shoot, entering this hard, wild adventure we call life – my bouncing Buddhas did NOT plummet down to ankle height. Nope. They may not be nestled up under my collar bones but then, they never were.

So, yea me!

How am I spending today? Amongst other things, Jen and I will have carrot cake and ice cream with Poppy. After that guilt igniting treat, we’ll drive into Pittsburgh for a wee wander in the Strip District and then it’s off to the airport and home, baby, home.

No, I'm not burning down the house , no giant celebration, but, hey, that’s just not how I roll. Dig?

An afterthought – that hat really rocked and looked stone darling on me. No? I should've stashed it in my purse. Ah well – next time.
The years between fifty and seventy are the hardest. You are always being asked to do things, and yet you are not decrepit enough to turn them down.
~ T.S. Eliot

Please don’t retouch my wrinkles. It took me so many birthdays to earn them.
~ Anna Magnani

Wisdom doesn’t necessarily come with age. Sometimes age just shows up all by itself.
~Tom Wilson

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