A funnier one...

Before you do anything, please go to this post that I just wrote, because it explains my feelings about the medications that I take and that's important.

I said I would write a funnier post, because the other one was so serious, and by Jove, I'm going to do my very best or die trying. Well, I will not literally die, of course, but it would be embarrassing not to live up to my promise. I will beat myself with sticks if I don't make it. Not real big sticks, just small branches cut off from the jasmine that's growing in the flowerbed out back. That doesn't hurt very much. I know you don't want me to suffer.

As I sit here at my desk in the late evening, the dog is constantly lying in ambush of the cat, who is not all that dumb and is constantly expecting it and makes a beeline for the dining table every time, leaving the dog very frustrated and looking silly. He comes to complain to me, putting his paws on the keyboard and creating general havoc with my text and I have to be strict with him and chase him away, so that he is rejected by both females in the household. He's just a puppy and having a tough life already. He dejectedly lies down on the ground beside me and gives a very depressed impression, until the cat moves from her perch and the chase starts all over again.

I try to figure out all his different moods, but I assume that most of the time I'm wrong and have no idea about what goes on in his head, except for his happy mood which is unmistakable and as clear as a sunshiny day. I assume he is terribly bored with me because I don't do anything interesting and I don't make loud and cheerful noises and run and jump and act silly like a kid would and he is very fond of kids. I should adopt a kid to keep the dog amused. It's a good thing there's the cat to keep him busy.

I'm just the same middle aged woman that I've been now for 10 years and am planning to stay for quite a while longer as I plan to draw out the aging process as long as I can. Things get droopy, though, and are better covered up with as many clothes as the weather allows. Too bad I can't wear a veil to soften the effect of my face, which is starting to show it's age, though gently so. I'm not complaining too much, but it seems to me that gravity plays too much of a role as we get older and maybe we should spend large portions of our time standing on our heads to counteract it.

If I could afford plastic surgery, I would have work done on my eyes, because that's where gravity is pulling down the heavy eyelids above my eyes, making me look like a Saxon farmer and I have the rosy cheeks to go with it. I would like to have that bright starry eyed look and and have my eyes reappear from the folds of my skin. I also have lines that run from both sides of my nose to the corners of my mouth and which are not at all appealing and now that we are on the subject, I think my lips are disappearing too. Some Botox might be in order and I'm working on a double chin, which I would like to cut off with a fruit knife.

It's not fair that men become more appealing when they get older and we just get old and have to disguise it. I do honestly have to tell you, though, that I don't. As long as I don't have the money for a total make over, I'm letting nature take its course and trying to grow old gracefully, albeit very imperfect. In my more than imperfect way, I've become very laissez faire about my looks, although I try to dress as good as I can, but after that I don't fret about it. It's kind of a relief not to have the guys at building sites whistle at you. I'm much more anonymous to men now and that's okay. It's one of the benefits of being middle aged. Men don't bother you. I don't have to be sexy anymore. Jane Fonda still does. She's in a different category. That's why we don't hang out together.

I figure, when I walk the dog, people see the dog and not necessarily the woman holding the leash, sucking in her stomach and holding her butt tight. I only remember to do that one third of the time anyway, when I pass busy streets and I get self conscious. The rest of the time I let it all hang out as it pleases. The cute little dog ought to be the focus of attention and very often it is, making my presence in the street legitimate. I'm not just a middle aged woman walking the streets aimlessly, I have a mission. All middle aged women should have a dog to pull the attention away from themselves and give them an excuse to be out in the open. Otherwise you have to carry a purse and look like a woman with a purpose and that is hard sometimes.

It's easier if you drive a car. Nobody questions your presence on the road if you drive a car. You are immediately a figure of authority with rights. Try to have authority when you ride a bicycle, no way, no such thing. You're just something that can get run over easily, especially if you're loaded down with groceries. You have to have a big mouth when you ride a bicycle in order to yell at all the people who endanger your life, including suicidal pedestrians who throw themselves in front of your bike right off the sidewalk. If I were a Catholic, I would hang a picture of Our Dear Lord on my handlebars and trust in God. Since I'm agnostic, I can't be sure and feel that I take my life in my own hands every time. Such a dilemma.

The animals have given up the chase for the night and the dog is down for the count on the floor beside me, sound asleep for now. The household has settled down for the long hours of the quietness of the night, my favorite hours in which I find myself the happiest. I would always like to be up for the night, except that convention dictates that I sleep then. Maybe I'm still stuck in the wrong time zone, because I always sleep well when I'm in the States. I might add, though, that I'm always depressed when I'm in the States and happy when I get back home, so there's something about the time difference that influences my moods. Either that, or I just don't like being in the States.

I hope this was enough of a dose of humor attached to some reality. It was stand up comedy, except that I was sitting down and had no microphone. I'm still wide awake and suppose I will be for a while. I will make the best of it and enjoy myself by pestering other people on their blogs.

Ciao,
Nora