Getting Old and Pretty Woman

Hi!  I'm Holly from Hoosier at Heart.  I am thrilled to be filling in for Krista today while she's running around packing and unpacking.  Congrats Krista on the new place.  I would love to tell you that I am uber creative and talented but the truth is, I just blog about whatever is going on in my life on any particular day.  I'm a very random blogger and my head is usually chock full of nonsense.  I've been thinking a lot lately about aging so I wanted to share a post with you that I did last year.

I’m getting old, there I said it (not out loud or anything cuz I’m sitting here by myself in my office and I’m still trying not to talk to myself, remember this? Keep up!). I’m not saying this because I’ve just looked into the mirror that reveals my age spots or my butt dimples or anything. I just know this to be a fact. Oh yes, I do hear “You’re just a Baby!” from sweet little blue haired women but I know this is not true. I’m saying I’m old because I’ve noticed other changes. Changes in the way people react to me that is different from years gone by. Let me ‘splain.

(me)

I have never been much of a “Looker” and have always thought I was a little on the plain side but I did have nice hair, a sweet smile and I didn’t want to vomit when I looked at myself naked or anything (I kinda do now but I didn't then). I did get my share of attention at times.

Once, when I was standing in line at the bank, I had that oogy feeling you get when someone is in your space. I turned around and a young black man was standing almost against my back side and he said, “Baby, you smell like graham crackers and milk.” Now, I have no idea what that meant but I remember it fondly so it must have been a compliment. (yes, a little creepy but I’ll take a compliment wherever I can get one).

I had a stalker once who looked like Gary Busey. I used to stop at the same convenience store every morning on my way to work for my Diet Coke with extra ice. This Busey looking guy would always be there and would wait until I pulled out and then try to follow me. It was quite a game. If I couldn’t lose him I would pull into the fire station and watch him drive on by. That lasted about a month. Good Times!

These days, I don’t get smelled or stalked, or noticed for that matter. For example, the other day I went into a Victoria’s Secret to see if they had bras on sale. There were a few girls behind the counter but I didn’t see many customers. The sales girls, let’s call them Blimberly, Blemissa, and Bliffany, never even glanced up when I walked past them. A minute later a thin, navel-gazing twenty year old walked in and Blemissa went to help her. A minute later a skinny brunette came through the door and Blimberly went to help her. They just looked right past me so I took my Wal-Mart bra bound boobs out of the store. I later told this to my daughter and she said that I should have pulled a "Pretty Woman" on them. I can see it so clearly now. I walk into the store wearing 15 bras and 20 pairs of panties.

Bliffany: Um, can I help you?
Me: I was in here yesterday, you wouldn’t wait on me.
Bliffany: Oh.
Me: Big mistake. Huge. I have to go shopping now.

I would look exactly like Julia Roberts here except I would be a lot older and only be wearing bras and panties, well, you get the picture.

Holly

xxx-ooo