Isak Dinesen once said, ‘God made the world round so we would never be able to see too far down the road.’ She also said ‘I don’t believe in evil, I believe only in horror,’ but that’s another post.
What am I babbling about?
Worry; plain old fashioned, nail-biting angst.
I will admit it’s somewhat the plight of the single woman who juggles all aspects of her life to panic once in a while.
There’s no big, strong man to fix everything, a myth if there ever was one. When I was growing up I was told I’d meet the man of my dreams who would take care of me and we’d live happily ever after.
Come to find out, I’m the man of my dreams, just in pumps and a little black dress.
When a model gets older, it doesn’t matter how great she may look for her age, her marketability changes. 35 year old carbon copies of me are getting jobs I used to get, and not that long ago either. It’s very disheartening to say the least.
Sometimes I find myself apologizing for being over 50. It’s really sick when you think about it. It’s not as if I’ve committed a crime.
Sometimes my agent will call and say, “Susannah, they think you’re in your 40s, so play along.”
Play along? It’s more like colluding over something that is just plain wrong not to mention ridiculous.
Someone once remarked to Gloria Steinem how great she looked for 50. “What’s 50 supposed to look like?” she snapped. Maybe it was 40, in any event you get the point.
She also said, ‘Most women are one man away from welfare.’
Oh God, why did I remember that?
A woman shouldn’t be penalized for aging yet they’d euthanize us if they could get it passed through The House.
In any event, I’m concerned over money, maintaining heath insurance and keeping myself looking spiffy. A woman’s upkeep is costly as you very well can imagine.
I’m not about to give up anything either. A friend suggested I forgo the waxer, a frivolity as far as she’s concerned which explains that mustache.
I’m sorry, that is truly out of the question; being hairy is not an option. I’m going down fighting and that includes smooth legs.
I’ve often heard it said, worry is not preparation and half the stuff you worry about never happens anyway. I guess there’s lots of truth in both theories but alas, I’m losing sleep just the same.
I woke up this morning with tiny valises under my eyes. My neighbor Polly who saw me in the hall asked if, by any chance, I had Chinese food for dinner. Now that was subtle.
No Polly, you arrogant, nosy, I wish you’d move mean bitch. I’m just in need of some sleep and about 10,000 dollars.
I figure if I had that stashed somewhere I’d feel a whole lot better plus I’d be on my way to the Gucci sale that started today.
“What about Lent. You gave up shopping remember?”
“Don’t you have anything better to do? Besides, I said IF I had 10,000.”
You know who really lives in the moment? Animals. They can certainly teach us a thing or 2 about enjoying the present. Wouldn’t you like to be excited over a walk in the park and a coupla biscuits? Wonder if Anthony the Pit Bull’s home. He might have a suggestion for me.
Maybe we could chase a few squirrels together. What am I saying?
Will you excuse me?
I think a nap may be in order.