I’m going to the beach today. Can’t find my favorite towel. Each strand of my hair is screaming “I am an
individual!” There’s been a revolt and the strands are exercising
their right to independence. A bold-colored
head wrap tames my curls. I stare at
myself in the mirror. My nose is a bit
crooked—just like it was yesterday when I looked. I really do like the curve of my butt though. It won’t fit in your hands, but these curves
can certainly give a good pair of hands something exciting to do for a while.
The whites of my eyes are still white. They are still flooded with that look that
says “I wonder what will happen next.”
Yes, I’m still curious. Despite
the fact I’ve graced this planet for many decades--long enough to appreciate
the difference between just looking good and real beauty. One is looking at the outside…the other is
looking in.
Oops..just got a text:
“dinner 2 nite?”
Life is shrinking to a series of texts, tweets and profile
updates. Seems you are not a bonafide
member of the human race unless you are friended or liked or tagged. You don’t have to be touched. You just need wi-fi. Life has become so abbreviated. What happened
to real social intercourse? We have way
too much social and not nearly enough intercourse. You’ve got to really get down under the
surface of life to really feel it. Got to look people in the eye…touch them…experience
their presence. You just can’t skim
across the top of life waving and clicking to the crowd as you pass by.
Sure I’ll have dinner tonight. I want to sit across the dinner table from
someone who makes me laugh until I cry in my salad…someone who makes my skirt
fly up uncontrollably. I think for a
moment.
Then text: “k”
Great…just found my towel.
Look at the time…the day is melting away. I’ll be late for the beach. Then I remember...there
is no such thing.
Cheers,
A Rich Woman
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