I fergot!

OK. So I was sitting here kind of blankly watching TV after a long day and I had this great post on my mind that I wanted to write so booted up the laptop which is old and moves slowly and now 15 minutes later I cannot for the life of me remember any of the fine points.

Basically it boiled down to age. How is it possible I am 45 and other than a few age-looking things I don't feel it? At all? I still think it's impossible that I could possibly be over 35. I'm still considering a tattoo (very small and EXTREMELY inconspicuous but a tattoo nonetheless - but rest easy Mom and Dad - no thoughts of piercings). Tonight I had dinner with a former co-worker. NOT a date, just time to catch up and enjoy good food and be social for two people who are essentially and happily loners but who have similar personalities and like to get together once in a while to eat and talk. I think what I like most about "R" is that I never have to feel like I need to put forth any kind of effort. Conversation is easy and laughter flows freely. A totally enjoyable evening. Just a getting together with a friend I admire and enjoy and therefore cherish.

But I got back home and washed my face and saw it in the mirror and kind of freaked out. Somehow I think I have gotten to be 45 and no one consulted me. When I left I thought I looked kind of decent in a really informal way. When I got home I saw bad hair, wrinkles, bad clothing AND DRAG ROT!!!!! . . what's that about?

Is this because I am in fact ageist even againt myself? And ultimately is this discrimination focused against myself? I don't feel it ever for anyone else except those boys who wear their pants down at their thighs so their underpants show about 6". That makes me crazy. What a stupid fucking thing.

With no direction whatsoever these are my thoughts for tonight and so I post even though I don't recall the reason for living through the reboot of this fucking lame laptop.

You just HAD to know I would use "fuck," right? Because I am and will always be gaga.