Where A Woman of a Certain Age Ruminates and Resonates

I started this blog because I have something to say. Keeping up with it has proven to be a challenge -- what can I say? The cobbler's kids have no shoes! Translation - I've been so busy writing for my wonderful clients that I haven't made time to write for myself. So thanks for that and yes to more!

Monday, June 23, 2008

Brand New Toy!

There was a time or two over the last month that I honestly had the start of a new blog. Then the random thoughts are gone, poof, like bubbles on a stream. But the fun part is that I'm doing all this random blogging on a brand new computer -- there that was it! That's where I wanted to go with this.

I have a new computer - laptop, very zippy, very fast and very cutting edge. Or at least this Old Broad thinks so. It even has that new computer smell...all sleek and shiny and no one else's identity stamped all over it. I chose the user profile name, I chose the hard drive name and I chose the colors, and fonts, and the screen saver and everything else that makes it mine. No junk, no desktop icons I didn't put there, just mine, mine, mine. With every click of the keys, I'm channelling Carrie Bradshaw and creating scintillating copy. I downloaded all my working files so I'll learn Word 2007 so there's no looking back now.

And oh the music!!! I now have two of the three must have albums as recommended by some guy whose name I don't remember on 60 Minutes last Sunday. He was right...Lizz Wright sends shivers down the spine and Hayes Carll rocks West Texas all over the planet. Who knew Tom Petty was ever in a band called Mudcrutch? I heard Adele Adkins sing on CBS Good Morning at 8:55 a.m. and at 9:05 a.m., I had downloaded a copy of her newest album and was rocking out. Now that's power!

The Vista thing kinda threw me but here I am transferring, typing and teasing just like I always have. And it's more fun to do!!! Oh sure I've run into a few glitches and that's to be expected til me and the Laptop become one. And to think I was going to send it back.

So here I am, blogging away and wondering -- at what point does the new laptop become just a tool instead of new Best Friend?

Thursday, April 10, 2008

This 50 Thing Redux

I always figured at 50 you were supposed to have everything figured out. Who are you, where you belong, what you want to do when you grow up -- all the stuff the billion dollar self-help business tries to rectify with the flip of a page or the click of a button.

And true enough, I have come to some realizations and moved past some things. Here is one inviolate truth -- It's okay that I don't have my mother's approval. If I asked her what to wear, I usually ended up wearing the opposite. If I asked her what to do, I'd do the opposite. The most telling example is when she suggested I major in journalism in college. Nope, couldn't do that. Had to figure out when I was 45 that I really was a writer even though I've documenting and noting and observing and scribbling since I learned how to read in the first grade.

And of course, she wanted me to find a good man to take care of me. She's from THAT generation. You know, the one that went to college to get an MRS degree and defined themselves by their husband's status and where they lived. Certainly, that standard helped in furthering my dad's career. But even my mother eventually went to work and thrived in an environment where she wasn't just someone's mother. And even though she officially retired in 2001, she continues to work in something she loves.

As for me, well, I've come to terms with who I am and what I need to do. As my brother said to me after my ahem second divorce, I've always gone my own way. And it feels darn good to slough off old stuff, like skin, and try something brave and new. I recently moved across the country to be live with my senior high school prom date. Peggy Sue all over again. My friends in Colorado are skeptical. It's all about releasing the fear and knowing...

Growing older does have its benefits...there's discounts, and wisdom, and wrinkles and more ways to be joyous and grateful.

Friday, April 4, 2008

That Generation

It's now official -- I'm turning 50 this year and I've got a shiny new AARP card to validate me. WOW! The platinum streaks in my hair tell me I'm aging. The special glasses in every room tell me I'm aging. The pile of jeans I can no longer fit into tells me aging. And the list goes on. BUT what is not telling me I'm aging is my head, my heart, my soul.

I keep hearing the word "age appropriate" and wonder who decides what's appropriate for what age. A woman of a certain age should have this, wear this, do this, go here, feel this. What if I feel like I'm still 35, full of piss and vinegar and unfulfilled potential? Sometimes I'm that giddy 17-year old who kissed a tall, blonde boy in the cool green woods on a hot summer day. Other days, I remember that 40 and FABULOUS feeling that you can ride til you're dead.

Age doesn't really matter unless you're a cheese. I've always subscribed to that theory. So I've decided I'm going to charge right into my 50s with maybe just a teeny bit more dignity and a lot more of everything. For our 50th birthdays, my beloved and I are going skydiving. Who knows? I might even get a tattoo! A dragonfly on my right cheek just might be the thing to keep me going in my 90s!