metanoia's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Getting older So, just a few notes about getting older. I hate it when something happens to my body and I freak out and go to the doctor and tell her - my hair is falling out! and she says, well, you ARE getting ... older. Wha? Is that part of it, because nobody told me that one. OOh,oooh. My eyes are sinking into my head. Look, see. Well, you ARE getting ... older. Ok, then. How about my skin. Look. There are bumps and moles and freckles all over! Well, ... etc. Why didn't anybody tell me all this crap, so that when it happens I can know it's just cause I'm getting older and not that I am sick? I can't seem to open jars anymore and my fingers are dry - I have to lick them to turn the pages (that is soooo gross). That's part of the age thing. Yes. Yes, it is. Believe it. Dark circles under eyes - yes. Age. Fingernails growing out funny, thicker toenails all deformed and clawlike - A.G.E. I can't think of any more right now, but there are plenty of things. Thickening of the waist - no matter how much you exercise. The whole aging process suck donkey dick. It sucks long and hard. It sucks. I have no fat on the bottom of my feet anymore. This is significant because when I wear high heels, I am virtually walking on foot bones on skin, with a layer of nerve endings sandwiched in between like the breast in a vise that is the mammogram. It is not that neat. It hurts like hell. So the reason little (or big) old ladies do not wear heels is not just personal preference, it is to avoid excruciating pain. So, nobody told me that one. I still wear heels, because, dammit, I like them and I like the way I look in them and I will wear them until I have only bloody little stumps at the end of my legs. Then I will make myself a little scooter out of plywood and skate wheels and make large gnarly calluses on my knuckles. But I don't wear 4" heels anymore. 3 1/2" is my limit. I used to have a pair of wedgies I called my 8 hour shoes. I could wear them for 8 hours and then I could no longer walk in them. It did not matter where I was, when the 8 hours elapse, I had to take them off. The woman that used to edit the church newsletter is pissed at me. Because I'm doing it now, and that is such bullshit because the only reason I offered to do it temporarily is because she hadn't sent one out in 5 fucking months. So fuck her. 4:00 p.m. - 2003-10-01 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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