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Monday, January 31

I Demand A Recount

How the hell did I get this old? And who is that lady in the mirror? I am not looking in the mirror anymore as my image has been hijacked. But how will I know if that person in the mirror has drool on her chin? Such are the problems of adulthood. I think I may deem myself officially grown up today, at least in chronological terms. Tempus Fugit. Half a century just flies. The first 25 years went slowly for me. The next 25 years were a blur. I understand if I blink, I'll miss the next 25.

I was noticing at large family functions of late that I have been relegated to the "grown-ups table". It was through attrition that I achieved grown-up table priveleges. Memento Mori. Even when I was 45 and at a Christmas gathering, I'd ask where the grown-ups table was so that I could steer my parents there. I certainly didn't belong at that table. For a few years I was relegated to the mommy table but now our kids are sitting with their kids at the mommy table.

I'm still a crazy 20 something at heart after all these years. I am a little bit wiser, but not that much. I am still learning new stuff each and every day and re-learning old stuff that I forgot about. I was always a sieve brain. I watch documentaries now. oy.

Still a rebel though. Whew. Still an artist and still a performing singer- songwriter although I need to tape cheat sheets to my guitar or the mic stand so I don't forget what I was standing on the stage for. Takes me days to recuperate from a late night gig.

I wear tri-focals. I didn't even wear glasses 5 years ago. If the glasses fall off the bedside, I can't find them in the morning. I wear sneakers and clogs more than any other type of footwear. Comfort first. Fashion secondary.

Don't have to worry about getting preggers these days. I can finally have indiscriminate sex - oh wait- I don't want to anymore. I'm discriminate now. I have to know his name and where he lives. heh. And what is up with that mustache I grew in the last few years? Blondes don't have unwanted hair. It took me 6 months to realize what that sensation was when I licked outside my lips. It was HAIR!!!!! Called the dark Italians in the family for advice. They snickered. Added depilitatory products to the shopping list.

My new clothes dryer is arriving today. The old one went on fire the other night. Literally burst into flames. Burned my bell bottomed blue jeans to a crisp among other things. Luckily my son can still smell. I was oblivious to the smoke until I was choking and coughing and running outside.

I'm on my last pack of cigarettes today. It's funny that the case of cigarettes from New Hampshire ($20 cheaper per carton) from last year is empty as of today. That's it. Finito. I'm reclaiming my lungs and it's too damn cold to have to keep going outside for a cigarette. All that getting up and going out was getting on my nerves although I used to claim that it was good exercise.

I never met my birth parents. I signed up for every adoptee registry on the internet. Nothing. I didn't do a search while my parents were alive although they wondered why I didn't. I just thought it would be rude. A lot of my adopted friends got to meet and have relationships with their birth parents although many wish they didn't. I'm not so sure I want to know anything about my genetics at this stage of the game. I don't want to know what diseases run in the family. There's enough crap to worry about. I have one blood relative that I know. My son. That's cool.

My new motto: Eat right, exercise regularly, die anyway.

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