Ah, The Good Ol' Days

Someone came up with a positive saying that I've been chanting to myself. "Life is a gift, that's why they call today the present." Well, I'm looking for the receipt, cause I'm thinking of exchanging for 'the good ol' days.

You remember? Television wasn't fixated on how we looked... if you had loose change n your purse, you could actually buy something with it? I paid $6.00 for a package of hamburger meat yesterday. Not the most expensive 'cut' of the cow...you know the one they add red dye to to make you think you're getting a bargain... but my mind flashed back to the Alamo Supermarket in Sunnymead, California, where I bought the same thing for twenty-nine cents a pound and a loaf of bread for nineteen cents. It doesn't seem like that long ago, but when I recall the ongoing gas wars and filling my car at twenty-five cents a gallon, it seems more like another world than time.

I long for the days when I got out of bed without creaking, moaning and groaning. When I came out of the shower, eager to dry and style my hair instead of worrying how many fell out when I shampooed. When a pimple was a pimple and eventually went away, instead of hardening into a clogged pore that lasts forever. There's a gift that keeps on giving. Connect the dots between the ones on my face and the age spots on my hands and you'll probably come up with a work of art. :)

Oh, for the time in my life when my breasts 'poufed' over the top of my brassiere and gave me cleavage. Now I keep tucking them back UP into my bra. I'm beginning to think they have magnets in the nipples and the attracting opposite is in my shoe.

Ah, shoes...there's another topic near and dear to my heart. I've stumbled through life with mismatching feet; one a size 9 and the other a 10 1/2, but we all know you can't buy two different sizes in the same box. The answer would have been to look for someone with the problem on the opposite feet, but I didn't have time to search. AND who'd take that 'want ad' seriously? "Looking for a woman with different-sized feet" I'd probably be arrested for being a sexual predator with a foot fetish.

I thought when we got away from the pointed toes, things would improve, because I spent years hobbling around on three inch spikes with the toes on my bigger foot overlapping. The pain was intense, but I was a trooper. Now I see some idiot has decided we haven't suffered enough and is bringing them back. I'm certain that fashion designers are mostly men who hated their mothers. Rather than be the brunt of their psychological problems, I'm thinking of sizing down and wearing the boxes. They fit better and are a whole lot more comfortable. Style just isn't important anymore. I have bigger fish to fry.

Frying... should have avoided it. When I was younger, my legs had some shape to them. I watched my husband get dressed this morning and found myself envying his ankles. I pictured switching with him. He deserves to have the calves and thighs of a linebacker, and the ankles to support them. I could shave his up and work wonders with them. It wouldn't require much effort, his socks have worn most of the hair off anyhow. He wouldn't care if he had cottage cheese thighs and those massive veins running just beneath the skin's surface and providing that lovely blue tinge. He doesn't worry what his legs look like in shorts...he's more worried about the sudden 'part' in his mustache. See, even men get cheated.

I used to worry about my bikini line, and whether I needed a trim. Don't know why, I never owned a bikini or even considered wearing one. These days, that worry is far from my mind. In fact, I'll share a secret with those of you approaching your "10% discount at Denny's" years... the hairs on your head aren't the only ones that turn gray...and men aren't the only ones to get 'male-pattern baldess', if you get my drift. It's sad. I hear about women shaving their pubic area, and laugh. Don't bother...just wait.

I guess I should actually be working on one of my many 'in progress' novels instead of griping, but I felt the need. Fortunately, no one answered the want ad I posted in my blog, seeking a live friend, the other day, so I have only my readers to torture. :)

I'm sure they have medication for what ails me... your legs can't even be restless anymore. Of course if you take the pill, you might have sudden gambling urges.

I probably have most of what's prescribed these days in my medicine chest, but there again I long for the 'good ol days' when the pharmacy actually labeled them correctly. "Take one a day for pain" or "Take two as needed for indigestion." I probably have the relief I need, but all the bottles say "Take one two times a day" or "Take as needed." FOR WHAT? I have a @hit-load of pills but no idea what they treat. God help me. I'm falling apart. Or should I say, "Help, I've fallen and I can't get up?"