Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Oh my, the twists and turns. I went up to the local community college yesterday to inquire about counseling (I want to find out how to get accepted into an impacted art department). I have attended on and off forever, so it's not as if there has been a hiatus, although I do possess an Associate Degree from this same school that I received in (too bad you can't mumble on a blog), uh, 1982. There, I said it. It's so funny how all the cliches about aging are just screaming at me loud and clear. All those warnings I heard about "time just flies by" are so damned true, aren't they? My God. I mean, I'm basically the same person I was 20 years ago, or 25 even...I'm just a bit more seasoned. Anyway, I walk into the counseling center, and I'm looking at all the names on the doors trying to remember who it was I had spoken with previously. The lady at the desk (she was middle-aged, so you can't chalk this off to snotty teenager) inquired if I needed help, and I asked if the staff had changed as I was trying to find who I had seen last, and none of the names looked familiar. Her response? "Oh, probably retired". Okay, let that settle in for a second, and let your blood boil up like hot soup like mine did. Of course, I have never had the gift of quick response, so I just sort-of stared in some sort of lost shock. Granted, I'm no longer 18, but I have good genes, and look 10 to 15 years younger than I actually am...so I never really think about being older. At least it's better than a co-worker who went out on stress leave and by some miracle returned to work with new boobs. How odd that so many people thought it was a waste since she's over 40--like life is about over or something, so why look good? Anyway, another co-worker and supposedly a "friend" of that transformed girl told her, "you do all these things to your body, but why?...when your face looks like a melted candle?". Whoa. Cue sound of breaking glass. Or rim shot. Something.