With Friends Like These...

I haven't dealt much with hate in my life until recently. Of course, there's always been folks I didn't like or didn't want to spend time with, but the kind of loathing, have to leave the room, keep you awake at night aversion-- well, that's new to me. It's been so bad, I haven't been able to write about it. It was so bad that for two or three weeks, I didn't even partake of communion at church.

A friend of mine recently said that, in your 30's, you start seeing people's true colors and many disappoint you. That's certainly been true these last couple of months.

A few Sundays ago at church, the lesson was on the Good Samaritan. The speaker made the point that often when we read the story, we compare ourselves to the Levite or the Priest who passed the beaten man on the side of the road, but what we should be realizing is we are the guy who was left for dead. Very compelling, and I agree.

But this thought plagued me then and has been plaguing me ever since: how do you deal with the people who gave their "neighbor" a beat-down, stole his money and left him to die naked in a ditch? What about those people?

Beauty is Fleeting

Aging is cruel to women. There are those occasional women who get more beautiful with age, but alas, I am not so foolish as to believe I belong in that category.

Last night I found myself on the rare trip to Wal-Mart. I was on the baking goods aisle when I spotted what I first thought were two teenage girls. They had their backs to me. One was wearing jeans, the other a dress. I noticed something seemed not quite right because the girl in the dress was wearing those really super thick hose, the kind the drill team girls used to wear. She was wearing them with open-toe shoes, but I digress.

Anyway, she turned around and VOILA! It's not a teenager but a woman probably, at best, in her late 30's (mother of the teen wearing jeans). She'd clearly had some breast work done, as I saw about 65% of her curves in the low cut neckline.

I'm the type who will ogle like a 14 year-old boy, so I had to force myself to avert my eyes. The poor men around me were really sweating! Part of me was in awe because, honestly, I envied her look if only for her ability to defy gravity. Gravity has never been a friend of mine; thank you Sir Isaac Newton. But it made me sad, too. It was like she was trying to look as young as her daughter. Yet in doing so, she only made herself look older.

But I get it. Every year, it takes a little more makeup, a little more hair color and a LOT more underwear to just maintain my look. Meanwhile, my husband can be seven years older, gain a little weight and sport a head full of gray hair but he becomes more attractive. Especially if he puts on a suit. No spanx for him.

Maybe I am shallow, but to be perfectly honest, this makes me unbelievably sad.

A Year of Silence

Every few weeks or so I think, "I should blog about that." And then I don't. Weeks turn into months and here we are almost a year later. Wow.

So, where have I been in 2010? Let's see, having a mid life crisis takes quite a bit of time. Unfortunately, it's only lead to lots of questioning inside my head instead of manifesting itself in a little fast sports car. Were it only that simple.

Alas, I'm going to try to start writing again. I feel like I am heard when I write - even if no one reads it.