My conceited self-absorbed corner of the universe.

I know there are real people with real problems right now. And compared to them my life totally rocks. This post is going to make me sound like a (bigger than usual) brat. But welcome to my conceited, self-absorbed corner of the universe. Please indulge me whilst I kvetch for a moment. (How's that for an introductory paragraph?)

De-Nile. Not a river in Egypt, but what's been going on in my bathroom mirror lately. It's been going on for a while, but I'm finally ready to talk about it. (Sorry for the most lame-ass joke ever posted on this blog. But it works. And sorry if you're offended by my use of the term 'lame-ass'. Lame-butt sounds too stupid.)

I am 24. And I am an old lady trapped in a young person's body. But it's starting to give.

Don't laugh. Some of you are thinking "Oh poor baby! ha ha. Only 24." Others of you are surprised I'm that young cuz I sound sooo ma-tur for my age. But I'm not kidding people this is not good. No bueno! I hope you're listening.

Because...

Gulp.

I have an age spot on my face. There's probably more than one, but it took a lot for me to face the one this morning. Quit laughing. I'm really upset. Don't you understand? I really am an old lady trapped in a young person's body. I knit, I love Oldies, I practically spent my teenage years growing up in an Assisted Living Center, I have had varicose veins since I was fourteen, a double chin when a size two, was buying hormone replacement creams at the ripe old age of 22, and now this!

Don't get me wrong it's not been all bad. Being old trapped inside of the young isn't soo bad. The older kids have always let me hang out with them. And I could flirt shamelessly with Fernando the Fireman and Dr. Sadri at the previously mentioned "Home" where I worked as the receptionist, and they had no idea I was sixteen! Sometimes if someone accidentally called 911 from their room we would let them show up. And the entire office staff was waiting in the lobby when they got there. "There was something in the air that night. The stars were bright. Fernando." See? I am old. Okay. ABBA is a bad example. How about my love for Elvis? Another clue I'm an oldie in disguise.

I thought I was prepared when my sister told me at nineteen that I looked like a Mormon Mommy, but not even that huge blow to my ego prepared me for the premature aging that has begun to show itself across my face.

Out Damn Spot!

Pray for me. You wont recognize me by the end of next week for I feel the gray starting to grow. I'm likely to be going in for a hip replacement and to have my dentures fit.