Old is happening all around me. I am a carrier of old. In fact, if you are under 40, you had best look away or you, too, might catch it. It creeps up on you over night. In one moment, you are a cute chick in 1996 wearing white hose with a red jumper, and the next thing you know, you're not. And even though in 2008 white hose is clearly "what not to wear," it looks pretty good to you at this point because you know you were probably at your peak in those white hose and red shoes. With a giant bow in your hair.
So here are some signs I noticed today that unequivocably state:
"I am old woman, hear me roar. Or was that just gas."
OK, this is a bag that I got some time ago at Bath and Body Works in one of their deals. It's a tote. But this is what I call my purse. Because I need lots of things with me, at all times. And, I also have a companion bag I drag everywhere in my car which contains about four books I'm working on at once. Nevermind that I rarely get to them. Let's just say that if I had been stranded on the LOST island, I could have added to Sawyer's library substantially.
Remember that purse meme that was popular last year when you dumped your purse's contents and bared your soul to the world on your blog? Well, always on the cutting edge even when I'm a year late, I present: my stash that will further prove my pending antiquity.
Here you will note bags within bags. I learnd to carry red bags within bags from my 82 year-old mother. She's says they're easier to see in the bigger bag. So I am now following in her footsteps, basically becoming her more and more daily. Now, the navy bag is my medicinal bag. It holds everything from Epi-pens to inhalers to Ibuprofen to allergy meds to eye drops and extra contacts .... Then there's the large red bag of makeup. The little red bag is the charge card purse. In addition, I have two combs, four or so pens, a copy of several pages from a book I'm leading a study on, hairspray, [usually I have a small can of Cling Free, too] loose change, dental floss, gum, a cellular phonical, checkbook, long striped bag for unmentionables, and yes, a grapefruit. Don't miss the small magazine there, which leads me to the next piece of evidence proving I'm old:
My new subscription to Prevention Magazine. No other comment needed. But it ain't over. Let's move on to the next evidence:
Hoarding paper products.
And here you can see the gifts I'm starting to receive. The joke is, of course, my last name is Crow. And apparently, I'm not just old, but "olde."
Here is the latest development. Or "unvelopment." My bones are leaving this earth, slowly but surely. Therefore, I am now chewing calcium chews, which are really thick, so when I chew them I feel like a cow. Calcium chews, people.
For your final consideration, I present "the jowl." Where this grew from, I do not know. All I know is, when I lean forward, my face somehow moves forward, too. When I am in a fitting room waiting on my daughters, I look in the mirror only to see my mom looking back at me. Don't get me wrong, my mom is lovely and looks about 15-20 years younger than she is. I am just not ready to be her ... yet. Nevertheless, the expression in that last picture says it all. It's happening. Whaddya gonna do. Rock on.