age and beauty
When I was a freshman in high school I don't know that I ever imagined being 45 years old, but I do know that if I had I would not have expected that I would, on my 45th birthday (which came this past weekend), be dealing with a big pimple on my face. Ah, the indignities of age: the ways that you'd like to remain youthful you generally do not, but then you still have to worry about your skin. Not that I worry too much, because nobody actually cares very much what I look like. And I really shouldn't complain at all, since it's not only pimples that are keeping me feeling young. My plan of subjecting my body to a constant stream of falls and indignities continues apace, and I think it's working great! Most of the other parents I hang out with are nervous about falling on the ice; there aren't many other 45-year-olds who are out there trying full-speed running penguin slides (well, I suppose technically since I last did that on Friday I was still 44, but close enough). And with all the snow that melted over the weekend I'm starting to think about taking my bike up to the skatepark again soon. That's a young person thing to do, right?!
By the way, as I wrote about being a freshman it occurred to me that I began this blog a mere 13 years after my freshman year in high school, and I've been writing in it now for 18 years. Imagine that! Only nine more years and I'll have been blogging for half my life! What role does blogging play in keeping one feeling young?