Tuesday, March 25, 2008


I recieved this today and it hit me just right.:

The other day a young person asked me how I felt about being old. I was taken aback, for I do not think of myself as old.

Upon seeing my reaction, she was immediately embarrassed, but I explained that it was an interesting question, and I would ponder it, and let her know.

Old Age, I decided, is a gift.

I am now, probably for the first time in my life, the person I have always wanted to be. Oh, not my body! I sometime despair over my body, the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the sagging butt. And often I am taken aback by that old person that lives in my mirror who looks like my father!), but I don't agonize over those things for long.

I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly. As I've aged, I've become more kind to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend.

I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed. I am entitled to a treat, to be messy, to be extravagant.

I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.

Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 AM and sleep until noon?

I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 50's, 60's & 70's, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love ... I will.

I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set. They, too, will get old.

I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten. And I eventually remember the important things.

Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebody's beloved pet dies?

But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.

I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver.

As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don't question myself anymore. I've even earned the right to be wrong.

So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day. if I feel like it.

Sunday, March 16, 2008

Green Beer

St-Patricks Day MySpace Glitter Graphics


Tuesday, March 11, 2008


Welcome to my latest obsession: the website "DAMNED INTERESTING". At least its my favorite for now, until the workplace 'puter police find out about it and block it from the work PC.

Don't just look at the first subject, browse through some of the many and varied offerings; this site has something for everyone. I'll warn ya now, it's almost addictive. You just might find yourself glancing at the clock and being amazed at how time flys by. Interesting and educational, what more can you ask for?

Sunday, March 09, 2008


Last night snowflakes swirled and danced across both outside monitors, coloring the nasty gray tire chip pile and the dusty mountain of shredded bark a clean, frosty white. Steam billowed off of sludge and ash, obstructing my view of machinery, bins and hoppers; forcing me to guess-ta-mate on whether they were full or empty but damn, it sure was prettier than my normal view here at work.

Others may watch life pass them by on TV or out of their home’s windows, but we shift workers have to rely on wall-mounted monitors to tell us if the sun is shining, a tornado about to blow us away or if it’s suddenly snowing after a week of 70 degree weather.

When you work inside a windowless, climate controlled room the outside world becomes remote and your whole universe becomes the circle of ‘puter monitors surrounding you and the voices of your coworkers on the radio. Then you walk outside at the end of a 12 hour shift and get all squinty eyed; blinking at the sun while tears stream down you cheeks from the wind and cold.

Man, I need some time off. I drove home this morning on a sheet of ice and snow; giggling as my little front-wheel-drive economy car passed a shiny new 4X4 asshole deep in a ditch, with the tracks & ruts to prove that he wound up there after sliding across all 4 lanes (when will those rednecks learn just because it's a 4 wheel drive doesn't mean that it'll stop on ice?) It was a good day to snuggle with the cats and sleep long and hard, which I did until it was time to go back to work. I don't think I even rolled over and I didn't even stay to work out in the gym this morning, all I could think about was a warm bed and flannel PJ's.

Hope y'all are alright, I promise to post more often because they've gotta give us some time off soon. The company has some ads up for job openings so maybe they'll hire us some more help (hopefully someone young , cute and with a strong back. Hey, I deserve some eye candy!).