Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Sufficiently recovered...


I just received an email from Blue Mountain Arts asking for more poems for their greeting cards... They probably send these to everyone who's ever submitted to them, but I was tickled anyway. I'm going to write a few poems today and send them off. They snatched the first one I wrote right away for a test market, so maybe I stand a fighting chance of getting another one accepted!

And Mudskippers, I will get those critiques to you as soon as I can!

: )

Megan

Saturday, July 19, 2008

Oy!



There comes a time in every woman's life when she's forced to face the inevitable fact that she's growing older. Every day. It happens to the best of us, and it's something we simply can't escape. We can approach it grudgingly and with massive amounts of glycolic acid or we can approach it with a lacksadaisical attitude -- laissez-faire and aloof and unshakeable. I am of the glycolic variety. I prefer to color my hair obsessively, tear off the outer layer of my face with Retin-A compounds, and apply massive amounts of creams and lotions and, after that, makeup, until I resemble a still somewhat wrinkled circus clown. Or maybe a cross between Phyllis Diller (definitely showing my age now) and Tammy Faye Baker.

Why am I telling you about this now?

I went to the grocery store the other day and as I was checking out, the clerk -- a young girl of about TWELVE -- asked if I qualified for the senior citizen discount.

I know.

You're stunned.

How could this have happened? I am only a mere 45 years old! I feel wiser than those young thirtysomethings. (and I remember the television show, Thirtysomething, too!) I wasn't wearing makeup and had been sorting through stuff for Goodwill so I must have looked a bit tired and grungy, but that's no excuse. I am affronted, first of all, that the store required her to ask people if they're old. And I'm doubly affronted that she thought she had to ask ME!

I went home and immediately colored my hair, put on makeup, and went out to a cookout with my husband, convinced no one there would want to talk to me, an elderly woman in a vast sea of youngsters. I ended up having a great conversation with someone who looked like she was about as used up by her kids as I am. None of the twentysomethings -- or even the thirtysomethings -- said a word to me, but that's okay. They'll BE me one day. And when that day comes, I will be there to reassure them that life does, indeed, continue. At least I hope I will be. Better go apply more creams and lotions and take some vitamins just in case!

: )

Megan Elizabeth