Can I just bitch for a moment about getting old? I know, I know, there are people starving in America, and I should just be grateful for my wonderful life. And, I am. But let’s face it. Regardless of bombs going off in the world and in the lives of people you love, if a missile has landed in your little universe, you can’t just wish it away. Pettiness and substance often occupy the same space. Life is like that. Okay, disclaimer taken care of. Now can I bitch?
I’ve written on this site before about going gray, and I thought I had a pretty good game plan in place: because it blends so well, start with platinum blonde around the crown, where it’s coming in at a speed rivaling the action in Charlie Chaplin movies; and, that’s been working very well. Until now. Who knew that my nice, soft curls would morph into coarse, wiry pubic hair? Gray pubic hair at that! Read more
“It is sad to grow old, but nice to ripen.” —Brigitte Bardot
Being a woman in full flower, of a certain age, and ripe, ripe, ripe, I often find myself comparing how I was to how I am. CBF (Connie Before Fifty) was just a glimmer of who I am becoming. Confidence, discipline, integrity, fearlessness would come and go like the Aurora Borealis—shining, colorful and dazzling; dancing and playing for all it’s worth.
Then the self-talk would take over. I’d tell myself all sorts of half-truths. That I wasn’t worthy, couldn’t fulfill my promises, can’t do that, too tired, they’ll find out I’m a fraud, they don’t need me, I can’t cut it, or worst of all, they don’t like me. I’d go about proving why all those things were true, hate myself for a few months, then gear up my energy for another go round, and again, fly and sing and be in my true self. It was exhausting. Read more
I didn’t even tell my closest friends until I was absolutely sure. After all, there is no turning back from a decision of this magnitude. Either you’re on the bus or not.
The first person I confide in is my hair stylist.
“I’m moving to Vermont!” I holler over the cacophony of blow-dryers and snarky conversations.
“Are you gonna open a bed and breakfast?”
Okay, cliché, but a fair assumption.
Vermont at my age—okay, fifty and change—must mean I feel a need to reinvent myself, right? Leave behind the expensive highlights, the freeway traffic and slip into a more relaxed lifestyle. Read more