Sun Come Up. It Was Blue and Gold.

Here is a planter made out of overalls. I'm not sure how I feel about that one plant hanging from the butt, though.

So, things are going great. I was going to try and run after work last night, but I was already getting rained on while riding my bike home. The Guy called me and said he had to work late, but would love to meet me downtown for dinner and a drink when he was done. Sweet! What a wonderful alternative to running 6 miles. Tonight it should be nice and sunny, so I'll probably plan on taking a nice bike ride out in the country.

Now, I will relate a couple of witticisms in my life as of late...

1) Co-worker: How can I be 52 years old and still getting a gigantic pimple?

Me: Don't you hate it when your zits and wrinkles have to compete for face time?

2) Last night I was on the phone with Stinky and Coadster was hovering and listening in.

Me: Your sister has been on kind of a bitchy tear tonight...

Coadster: No, I'm not. I'm being funny and honest.

I suppose it's all about perspectives....

Doctor My Eyes Have Seen the Years

Here is The Guy and me. Not the best picture of me, but The Guy looks great.

So, that little writing exercise below does need a lot of work. I wrote it at work, so my brain was being sucked by the beige cubicle walls and it didn't say everything I wanted it to. I wanted it to be a little more about the person I am now too, but under the guise of physically being exposed and how different both physically and mentally I thought I'd be at this age. I guess, overall, I feel really good in both aspects. Because I work-out, in some ways I'm in better shape than I was at 19 (when I never worked-out and ate crappy food and drank too much beer). Emotionally, I'm in way better shape than I was in my twenties. Thank god.

I feel like I need to keep reevaluating this whole aging business to keep it in perspective. Who knows what will happen later, but at 45 years of age, I feel better and am in better shape than I was 20 years ago. If you had told me that would be the case when I was 25, I doubt I would've believed you.

Now, in the interest of talking about what I eat all the time (ha ha, Pamela), I'm building a meal tonight around the frozen somosas we got at Trader Joe's about a month ago. I'm making curried red lentil soup and salad and serving it up with bread and mango chutney. I hope it's as delicious as it sounds.

Picture Yourself When You're Getting On

My friend Bry "helpfully" stretching out my hamstring.

Here are some observations and ponderings from after I went swimming last week:

Locker room.

The youth sucked out of it by Spring Break and the early morning hour.

Older Women,

Naked.

Our faces and bodies bare.

Eyes resting on uncovered bags.

Skin has lost its blush.

Still, all the laps, weights, reps, and stretches preserving most of us pretty well.

After we're all modestly wrapped back up in fabric,

With our faces back "on" and our bags safely hidden under foundations or powders,

I am always left to wonder:

How would my 25 year old self feel seeing my 45 year old self so exposed?

Would I be disappointed or proud of what we had become?

It's Like the Party Neva Ends

Here are some clothes pins in your face.

Well, kids. Consider my taxes officially D-O-N-E. Hurray! I went to H and R Block and had them do them for me for the first time. I usually just do them myself on-line, but with the 1st Time Home Buyer Tax Credit thingy, I wanted to make sure I did it right. So, we amended last year's return to get that back a little sooner. The other way to do it, would be to file my taxes for this year on-line, get that return and then amend that return. You can't do the home buyer thing on-line, because I guess people were trying to cheat and now they're watching things more closely. It was pretty pricey paying them to do it, but it was so much faster and easier and if anything goes wrong, they're accountable. Sounds worth the extra bank to me.

If all goes well, I should get my return back by the middle of the month. Which is good, because I'll realistically need to buy a fridge and a hot water heater sooner rather than later. My fridge is making the most interesting noises and my heater is 18 years old. The inspector guy said his died right at 18 years. Those are two things I'd like to be proactive with. I'm sure it would be great fun to wake up to cold, cold showers and a mess of water on my laundry room floor, or realize that a week's worth of groceries has been sitting in a warm box for a day...Or not

I know I like to talk about aging, because I guess I'm in the middle of that process, and it's fascinating to me. There are so many great things about it, as far as I'm concerned. Sure there's the physical downturns I've been taking since my twenties, but those are really balanced out by how much happier and more self-possessed I feel. Don't get me wrong, I've still got a mess of demons chasing me, we're just better acquainted now and I'm learning how to deal with them. I really believe that if you are willing to look at yourself and figure out what bothers you about yourself (not what bothers other people. Fuck them. They don't have to live in your head all day) and work on fixing it, aging isn't half as scary.

That having been said, I realized today how different I've become about certain things as I've gotten older. Back in the day, I would just procrastinate and do my taxes on the last day and have them hanging over my head for months. Now, I've realized that I don't like that feeling of dread at having to do something. It's not that I don't ever procrastinate, but I rarely let it get to the point of stress and drama in my head like I used to. Now, just 51,206 other things that annoy me about myself left to work on in my life...

I'm Worth a Million in Prizes

Here is the painting Stinky made me for my birthday. She wanted to paint me flowers because she knows how much I love them, but the first photo she looked at was of fireworks. So, she painted a flower that looked like fireworks. Perfect

In 15 minutes I will officially be fortymuthafuckinfour years old. Shit, yo! That seems really really old when you look at it on paper. Luckily for me, it doesn't feel that old in the real world...Or whatever world it is that I live in.

I know people who get sad on their birthdays. I'm not one of those. I tend to celebrate it as long as I can. As far as I'm concerned, finishing every year is a HUGE fucking accomplishment. And beginning every year offers the prospect of another wonderfully ridiculous adventure.

I think if someone had told my 22 year old self that in that many more years, I'd be a single mom with two teenage daughters without being anywhere close to having a boyfriend, I'd feel sad about that.

On the other hand... If someone had told my 22 year old self that in that many more years, I'd still be running and bike riding and finally like myself and be comfortable in my body and my own skin, I'd be happy as hell. I'd have no idea what that would feel like, but I'd know I'd want to get to that place.

So, here I sit, careening dangerously close to 44. I'm in kick-ass shape, I know what to do to make myself happy, and I actually do those things. I have a job that's just fine, has great benefits, and gives me tons of freedom. I have two amazing daughters who actually respect me and think I'm almost as funny as I do. I am set and ready for action to deal with the wonderfully ridiculous year that awaits me. I am one, lucky, lucky fortymuthafuckinfour year old girl.