Here. In My Head

So, I got to visit my mom and sister briefly in the anomaly that is Denver International Airport. It's got these crazy tent poles and it's REALLY bright inside. But I had an early birthday celebration which included my family sating my crazy orange compulsions by giving me an orange patent leather tote. It's sort of in-between sizes of a purse and a tote, but it was handy because I could stick my book I was reading whilst waiting for them in it, as well as the handheld milk frother they gave me so I could make my own lattes (or au laits since I don't have an espresso machine). All in all it was a short visit, a nice visit, and a good visit. And I went outside to the parking garage (I was on the top level) and since it's waaaay out in the middle of nowhere, it looks like you can just see forever. And forever is evidently bordered by the lovely, snowcapped Rockies. The sky was a goregeous shade of blue, the wind was cool and refreshing (if not a bit pesky and kept trying to blow my skirt up), and it was 72 lovely, sunny degrees. When it's 72 degrees, I always think of the Kids in the Hall movie Brain Candy: Gleemonex makes it like it's 72 degrees in your head... all the time.

Last night I taught myself something new: I set a zipper in my skirt that I'd been altering since it's too big. Could I have just bought the skirt in the right size? Of course, but that'd be logical. It came out pretty well for a first zipper and since I don't have a zipper foot for my sewing machine, it's relatively close to the coil, and combined with the altering, the skirt doesn't fall down anymore. It's my favorite skirt. If you happened to receive that email, it's the one I was wearing this Sunday when I spilled coffee all over it and had to change (into blue capris, if you're curious).

Here's a job that's posted but I won't apply for: Seeking Will Smith, Gloria Estefan and Bette Midler look a likes

I just had a slightly sad but good conversation with my favorite 89-year old woman. Among other things we talked about how parents (typically) raise you to become independent people who live happy, fulfilled lives. And then she started talking about how it's very sad to outlive everyone you've ever grown up with, and that's she's ready to go "whenever the Good Lord decides I'm done futzing around this place." All her friends, husband, siblings, cousins, and entire peer group are just gone. Which made me sad for her. She's been alive since 1915. WWI, WWII, Abolition, Roaring 20's, the Great Depression, Facism, the Spanish Civil War... All of these things she was alive for. THat's just fricking remarkable. This is WAY more nutshell than I wanted to be about this, bt it's too long (we talked for about 2 hours) to synopsize any more than what I already have. But it kept bringing me back to a song my friend Colleen wrote in college ("Grandma died 2 weeks ago, she raised her soul up to the sky. But she was ready, you know she lived a long and trialed life. Born in 1901, she'd seen so many changes in her life, social worker, music teacher, mother of 8 children, and of course she was a good wife. But in the days, the hours, the minutes before she lifted up her soul, she prayed to the Good Lord that he would finally come and take her home.")

A lighter part of the conversation was about the movie Chicago, with which she wasn't duly impressed, but she liekd the jazzy music, especially better than some of the music they play these days. "Like that hip hop. They call mothers the most awful things in those songs." I almost fell down it was so funny.

I'm tired of breaking out and finding grey hair. (I don't find grey hair when I break out, those are two separate things I'm tired of) My sister started breaking out again when she turned 30. I have 3 more years (plus one day, if you're keeping track) before I should have to deal with that again. And since I see millions of grey hair in the front, and can't see in the back, I can only imagine what's going on there. I'd been on a strike of coloring my hair until I had to, but it's official. I have to start coloring my hair.

Tomorrow, I'm getting a pedicure (and why not, dammit? my birthday will be a perfect cube, why not get one?), playing fetch with the animal, baking a cake (please vote: chocolate or lemon?) and having some dinner with family. A quiet day. Maybe it'll be crowned by me getting a job.

The job I thought was in the bag didn't come through.

2 of my midwestern cousins are graduating from high school this year... Wow... I remember when both of them were born... I am getting old. Please pass the Geritol.