Month: February 2014

Skin Deep

skindeep

Irony.  I fear the appearance of aging.  Yet, one effect of married life for me is that I’m no longer afraid to go out sans makeup (unless, of course, the occasion calls for it) and, sometimes, (EEK!!!) sans sunscreen (that’s just pure laziness on my part).  I no longer experience anguish over going out barefaced to run errands.  With that said, I do make an effort on most days.

Perhaps my lack of hesitation in going sans makeup has less to do with being married and more to do with my gaining more confidence with age.  Come to think of it, I’m more comfortable in my own skin than I’ve ever been in my life and that feeling has increased with every passing year.  It’s as if I have a banner stuck to my body that reads, “I may still have much to learn but there are many things I have done and learned about and, because of this, I know what I’m doing and what I’m talking about (for the most part) so deal with it.  I am who I am, thankyouverymuch.”

 

Hunger Games

hungry

So, I haven’t been as good with my new year’s resolutions as I wanted to be (no surprise there).  What started out as a fantastic get-my-butt-to-the-gym-and-eat-healthy-at-all-times regimen has now turned into a do-I-really-have-to-workout-today-and-what’s-one-more-slice-of-cake struggle.

That plus the fact that I have baby fever.  I look around and just about everyone my age is having and/or have had kids.  Don’t get me wrong.  I don’t want kids just to “get on the bandwagon” or because “it’s time”.  I want kids because my mind, body, and soul are telling me, “This is what you are meant to do.  This is going to be your biggest contribution to society”.  It’s gotten bad.  Really bad.  I’m looking at maternity clothes, baby stuff, and even children’s educational programs.  I know, I’m going a bit batty.

Now that I’ve had lunch, I have a mad dash to go to the post office, update my fashion blog, blast out e-mails to promote this event I’m co-hosting in DC, go to the bank, and run a few other errands–all before rush hour which starts at 3PM in these parts.  More updates later.  Ciao.

Working Girl

workinggirl

Beauty, pizzazz, and smarts
Don’t get you far in these parts
 
Stocks, bonds, and AI
No one is an ally
 
Unless you’re a guy
Then clients buy and buy
 
Tall, white, testosterone
Otherwise, you’re alone
 
It’s all for one
And one and done
 
But for a woman
Her place, the oven
 
Old frat brothers
And many others
 
Versus Orphan Annie
Your pick, Mr. Canny?