I'm moody, I'm bitchy, I'm not aging gracefully so get out of range and pass the frickin prunes!  In my previous post I pulled out my notebook of 'things to complain about' and decided on a random number and went with my menopausal husband.  Well, no more cherry pickin my friends.  Let's start from the top.

It happens in the dead of night.  It happens between the blink of an eye.  It sneaks up and finds the ONLY blind spot known universally to humans.  it is the most dreaded event you will ever experience.  It is the most profane three letter word in the dictionary.  Yes my friends, it is - AGE!!!!!!

I have a pretty damn good frame of reference here.  I smugly hid an evil grin while I watched the grim wrecker pick off my friends one by one while I lived akin to Dorian Grey.  I somehow thought myself ....what's the word I want here....immuned to such things.  After all,  I come from an extraordinary gene pool, and have lived an incredibly charmed life.  I was a Hippy goddess, a tiny dancer, a gifted singer-songwriter who mingled with beautiful minds.  Psychedelic colors and products were, for the most part anyway, becoming on me.  I married a rock star...I bore him a tone deaf but gorgeous son....we were the envy of....SLAP ME NOW!

I am now buying prunes......my 'cosmo' boobs add inches to my hips, my size 3 feet come with size 12 cankles and I am turning into Mrs. Haversham.  I swear I am....I took out my size 2 wedding dress and decided it wouldn't fit the wing span of ONE arm now. 

Bette Davis uttered the most insiteful sentence in history.  She said, "Aging ain't for sissies."  I have scheduled an appointment to have those words tattooed on my butt....it is now so wide I think I can fit it all on. On the subject of tattoos I had a magnificent tat of the Medusa inked on my hip when I was young and very hip.  Now I have snakes crawling all over the hills and valleys of that region.

OK, that image made me queasy.  I have to go now and buy more prunes.

Pax in D Minor!