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Thursday, May 20, 2004
oh, the thinks I can think!
Thinks I thought last night and today:
- Whilst looking at real estate in other states and politically conservative weblogs: Why in the name of all that is holy do I still live in the state of Kalifornia? I mean, other than the fact that my family is here. And it's really quite a beautiful state with lots of variety. And the ocean and the mountains and stuff. And T has a good job. But other than that. WHY?
- In the parking lot at Costco: It is odd that Costco is the kind of place where you see people holding up lines of cars and making shoppers feel uncomfortable by waiting for someone to get to his/her car and put his/her groceries away so that they can take his/her parking space. This doesn't happen at "lower-class" places like Wal-Mart or Food 4 Less or even Target. Is it because people who are better off are more accustomed to getting what they want even if it inconveniences other people? I dunno. I can use the exercise anyway, so generally I just park far away so I don't have to deal with either waiting in the backed-up line of traffic, or with a covetous jerk in a shiny new car sitting there staring at me while I put Raisin Bran and individually-quick-frozen chicken breasts into my trunk. In fact, on the occasions when I have had to deal with this annoying behavior, if I'm in a particularly snotty mood, I've been known to sit in the car looking at pictures I've just had developed, or checking my grocery list one more time, just to show the jerk that I won't be bullied into hurrying for his sake. (but not if there's a line of innocent sufferers behind him.)
- Driving through the seedier section of Smallish Shopping City: If I owned a store called "Discount Meats and Poultry," and for some strange reason a chicken became spectacularly gory roadkill directly in front of my main entrance, I'd call the city to have it cleaned up right quick. Because that just looks bad, in a horrifically funny kind of way.
I am having a feeling-thin day, which is always nice. I have been really disciplined with my food all week, and I had a new low weigh-in this morning (after maintaining for, what, five months? it's good to see the scale moving again), so that's probably why. Rationally I know that one or two pounds really could not make a difference in my appearance. But the mood lift was nice, especially considering that a lot of other things about today were stressful. I have an unbelievable weekend coming up regarding food: I am hosting one dinner and two breakfasts and packing sack lunches for three total strangers. I have two potlucks to cook for (Sunday and Monday), and then on Tuesday we're having my mother's birthday party which I'm also hosting (and cooking for). It's nuts. And appalling, how much groceries for a series of events like that can cost. It's also the first time our guest apartment will be used, which means that tonight and tomorrow I have a lot of cleaning to do over there. Goody.
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Sunday, May 16, 2004
and now for a very special Saturday-night ramble
Before I proceed with the rest of the entry, there's a kind of a reverse meme I've been wanting to try. The idea is that if you're so inclined, you ask me any three questions you want (using the comments link), and as long as the honest answers won't cross some line in my own personal privacy policy, or make it easier for The Big Bad Internet Stalker to find me, I'll answer them in my diary. Try me. I think it sounds like fun. :)
Now, on with your regularly scheduled rambling entry...
Funny how little things can make a day so much nicer. I've been missing a pair of black slacks for a month. I thought I must have left them at my mom's, except they weren't there, so I began to suspect they'd been abducted by some Van Heusen-loving size 12 aliens, when I thought to check to see if they'd fallen into the brown paper bag in the laundry room which I'd thought held clothes I was gathering up to give away. Except I'd forgotten that I'd actually taken that bag to the thrift store, and that the bag that was actually there was -- ta-da! -- full of clothes we'd changed out of at my mom's when we went there one Sunday after church. And there at the bottom, safe and sound if a bit wrinkled, were my beloved slacks. These are definitely on my top 3 list for Favorite Item of Clothing -- my bottom looks nice in them, my waist looks slim in them, they are actually long enough (shout out to Mary, my fellow high-waters sufferer), and they are a nice true black and they hang just right and oh I love these pants. And I found them just in time for our chorus concert on Monday. yay!
I think the missing slacks and the upcoming chorus concert and the general upheaval going on in my life right now combined to give me a doozy of a dream last night. I had to go perform with the chorus in a concert in the city, only I didn't know where the place was and I found out about the concert just before it started. T and I got separated in the city, I got lost, I finally found the place just as everyone was going on stage and I still had to change... I had brought, instead of my black and whites, a bright BRIGHT yellow ugly satin dress, and no shoes, so I bummed a pair of flip-flops from somebody, and I was trying to find my place on the risers while everyone was staring at me, and all the people in the concert were people I'd gone to junior high with (all junior-high-aged except for me) and it goes on and on. Basically every out-of-control dream element you can come up with was in there, along with a heavy dose of my own personality flaws. I certainly didn't need any help analyzing that one.
Tomorrow's a bit of a crazy day -- we're having three other families over in the afternoon for a barbecue. It's because of this "get to know everyone" thing that our church is putting on -- we get into groups and take turns hosting the whole group for dinner. One of the families coming we already know pretty well, and one we know by sight, but the third is a family I don't think I've ever actually met. Let's see how many stupid things I can be kicking myself for saying by the end of the day, shall we? Well, let me rephrase that. It's not exactly stupid things I say, as in putting my foot in my mouth. Usually. Usually it's just that I talk SO much and don't self-edit enough. What I'm saying seems appropriate at the time, and isn't embarrassing per se, but afterward I cringe when I remember having let the topic stray so far, or having felt the need to explain myself just in case someone didn't pick up on my irony, or something. Basically, a conversation can be a minefield of goofy faux pas for me. Ah well, life is too short to worry about that stuff, right? I can say that now... let's all see how complacent I am about it tomorrow, though.
Friday, May 14, 2004
more like "begrudging rancor"
I am feeling all witty and like writing a diaryland entry. The only problem is, the witty things I keep thinking all have to do with icky bodily-function things that I don't generally like to write about in here. I'll just say this, however. All of you women who have easy, la-dee-da-life-as-usual periods? Be on the alert today because I may well let all the air out of your tires just to make myself feel better.
I was planning a day of staying at home with my rancor today. (And my kids. But I am capable of acting in a non-rancorous manner toward them). But it is looking more and more like I am going to have to go to the city and buy groceries. There comes a point where "Hey, Mom, since you're going to the valley anyway, can I give you some money and you pick up some things for me?" turns into "Mom, I need you to be my personal shopper because in fact I never really grew up." And I think my absolutely-must-have-it-and-it-costs-astronomical-amounts-of-money-in-town list is passing that point. Even though gas is $2.50 a gallon here. Yes, you read that right, two stinking fifty a gallon. Let's hear all of you complain about your, what, $1.90? You poor poor people. aawwwwwwww. (to be fair, that's the foothills take-advantage-of-the-tourists rate. In the valley it's only $2.10 or so.) What is this, Europe?
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Wednesday, May 05, 2004
small-town drama
Here is small-town drama* for you: This morning I woke up kind of early, because my parents were bringing something by on my mom's way to work, and when I opened the door, I was greeted by the sight of a ten-foot geyser of water spraying from the water main that runs down the other side of our street. And you know what? When I called the public utility people about it, all I had to say was, "that pipe up by the Greens'** is really acting up again." And boom, they showed up.
*actually, this isn't the most dramatic thing to ever happen here. About six months ago there was a truck delivering propane that almost rolled down an embankment, and would have crashed into some enormous propane tanks, and they had to evacuate half the town (fortunately for me and my eight-hours-of-sleep habit, it was the other half) just in case there was a huge explosion. And once, the high-school science teacher/cheerleading advisor left his wife and ran off with one of his students/cheerleaders as soon as she graduated. And then they came BACK to town, which in a place like this, takes a lot of guts. And then he shot at her -- which was in the paper, oh that weekly paper LOVES it when something sordid happens -- so now they're divorced. And people think small towns are boring.
**not my name, the name of the folks across the street, and heck, this IS the internet, it's not even THEIR real name
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Friday, April 30, 2004
In Which I Am A Grown-Up
I went to a high school play tonight -- it was written by the new drama teacher to commemorate the career of the retiring drama teacher, who was not only the new drama teacher's drama teacher, but also mine. :) (follow that?) It was a funny production, well-done. What was more fun, though, was the mini-high-school-reunion going on at intermission. I ran into the following people:
- At least half a dozen people my age I've known since I was barely out of diapers, and dozens of other people I went to school with. Now they're all adults. The nerve!
- Younger siblings of said contemporaries who are likewise adults.
- Members of the youth group my husband and I taught as newlyweds, also now adults.
- Several kids I babysat, who are now old enough to have boyfriends and stuff, some of whom are about to leave for college. ack.
- The girl who was the flower girl in my wedding, now a senior, who had a part in the play.
- My first serious boyfriend, who, what, fifteen years later? is, albeit quite a nice guy, probably the only man west of the Rockies still sporting a mullet, and who was the only person I saw all night who looked exactly the same as he had when I knew him better.
Saturday, April 17, 2004
what does "party" mean to you?
I was just musing, as I sewed interfacings together for the three summer blouses I'm making for C, about the way my idea of what a party is has changed over the years. When I was a really young child, I don't know that I thought about parties much, but if I did, I probably thought of classroom parties, with Room Mother cupcakes and holiday-appropriate decorations and crafts, and that "school day but not REALLY a school day" kind of feeling. In early adolescence -- say, from fifth grade through junior high, I never actually HAD parties, or went to any that I remember, but in my fantasies, they were frighteningly like something out of a 1950's teen novel. I always envisioned soft lighting, and slow/peppy music, and slow dancing with my head on a boy's shoulder (preferably the boy would be taller than me so that I didn't have to stoop over like an elderly woman to do this, but this was about as likely as the rest of the scenario -- that is to say, completely and utterly improbable). Pitifully, I did actually plan a few parties during this time but they never materialized.
Then in high school, I actually did have several parties, and they generally went as follows: Friends, generally of both genders, would come over after school or in the middle of an afternoon; we would have pizza and Pepsi, maybe watch a movie, and generally end up going for a walk before everyone left, sometimes at midnight or two a.m. Occasionally there would be a bit of drama at a party -- a couple would be made or broken, for example. Once I was sitting by the road and got a foxtail in my ear -- THAT was pretty dramatic. (just in case you ever wondered why country people have a reputation for being simple.)
Early in my marriage a party generally meant a church group or a group of women, over at someone's house for a baby shower or a birthday party for anyone in the congregation whose birthday fell in December, or some such thing. White elephant exchanges. Highly competitive games involving leg-crossing and safety pins. (for some GREAT baby shower ideas, check out what Dawn did for her sister's shower. Wish I was so creative.)
And then there's the past eight years or so. The word "party" instantly brings to mind the following: Crepe-paper streamers, of which we always buy far, far too many. Balloons, and if we really splurge we get the helium setup from Costco. An innovatively-decorated cake (today's depicted the Battle of Hoth; in the past we have created army battles, horse corrals, Blue and Steve, a lunar landscape, and various other kid-related scenarios with frosting and toys). A similarly innovative piņata. A crowd of children running wild. A lot of stress, and a lot of fun, and that moment when I finally abandon my mental image of what was supposed to go on, and enjoy the event for what it is.
And of course there's the realization that I have progressed past another milestone on the way to watching my children become adults and drive away, one at a time, to make their own lives wherein I'm just an accessory. We always spend the last few days before each birthday emphasizing the fact that the child hasn't passed into the new number quite yet -- so, although his party was today, our boy won't actually be eight until Wednesday, and we're holding on to every last minute of seven as hard as we can.
Tuesday, April 13, 2004
life is better
Why can I never think to make sure that my husband has a supply of clean white v-necked t-shirts BEFORE ten o'clock at night? I ask you. What I should really do is take about $50 of our grocery budget, go to Wal-Mart, and buy about eight three-packs of shirts every month. These will live in the top of our closet and he can simply pull one shirt out every morning and throw it away every night. Simple!
Oh my goodness that actually sounds tempting, except that it would involve a trip to the city which, at this point in time, I feel like I never. ever. want to do again.
Has anyone here ever been to the Bay Area? WHY IN THE NAME OF GOD is the traffic on the 580 freeway east through Livermore ALWAYS ALWAYS so terribly screwed up, EVERY SINGLE DAY, even at 3:00 in the afternoon? There's no accident! There's no lane closure! Precisely how many incapable drivers does it take to turn four lanes into "stop-and-go, and stop, and go just long enough to make you start to think you can actually accelerate, and then STOP and cause everything in your trunk to ram into the backseat so that you don't rear-end the person in front of you who has likewise had to throw his passengers and belongings to the front of the car to avoid hitting the person in front of HIM, and so on"? EVERY SINGLE TIME I ever travel that road! WHY? I took the kids to pick up some telescope accessories for T today and they wanted to see the windmills on Altamont Pass on the way home so I took the circuitous route. Never. Again.
Bad things about today:
- The weird nameless dread that sometimes comes upon me at bedtime is back. It's not that I sit and worry, I just feel that awful pit-of-the-stomach something is wrong feeling and I have no idea why. Is this what an ulcer is like? I wonder.
- The aforementioned traffic which made my shoulders so tense that I wonder if they will ever relax. I feel like a cat with my back permanently arched.
- T is sick and we don't know what with, and if we spend the money to go to the doctor, he'll just give us either the "I dunno, beats me, let's run some meaningless and expensive tests so that at least I look like I have some sort of thought process going on here," or he'll give us some pat and incorrect answer which has nothing to do with anything he learned in medical school except that The Patient Expects You To Have A Clue. It's probably some sort of virus, but it behaves really strangely, with only very occasional bouts of fever. Anyway. He has to work anyway because they are in the middle of some huge project at work and I hope he sneezes directly on his boss's computer keyboard and his boss is debilitated for weeks -- that'd teach him to have a little compassion and let a guy actually use his sick leave without getting an enormous guilt trip laid on him.
- The t-shirt/laundry thing, which is why I am here with you tonight instead of SLEEPING OFF THE TRAFFIC THING like I'd love to be doing.
- Cleaning the fishtank. Apparently, judging by the smell, the bacteria inhabiting the gunk that gets around the rim of the aquarium are the same as the ones in human intestinal tracts. In other words, it was not a pretty smell at all. eew.
- nothing else, today was actually pretty good aside from the above.
- The reptilian THING is a little less alive today than it was yesterday; it's been dying slowly ever since Saturday morning.
- The smell of eucalyptus in Capitola and Santa Cruz.
- The blue, blue, BLUE blue of the Pacific Ocean today.
- The moment when I was standing outside the car near sunset at a gas station, waiting for the tank to fill, drinking a can of diet cherry coke, and I felt like I stepped outside myself and looked at myself like I was a woman in a book, having a quiet moment to myself in a surprising time and place and really enjoying it.
- My daughter singing along with Alison Krauss' cover of "When You Say Nothing At All," which is her "VERY fav'rite" song.
- Cloud shadows.
- Whatever tree or bush or whatever it is that makes twilight smell so good right now.
- Feeling like I'm really living my life again, instead of just looking at it through glass, like I had for days. Yay for living.
Friday, April 09, 2004
short survey
I nicked this from the wickedly humorous Kristin and I can guarantee you that it won't be as funny as hers.
1: grab the book nearest to you. turn to page 18, find line 4. write down here what it says:
"overnight guests. The bedroom she shared with her son was di-" (this is actually from a REALLY GOOD BOOK called A Catch of Consequence by Diana Norman. I just finished it yesterday.
2: stretch your left arm out as far as you can.
and...? Thin air. (?)
3: What is the last thing you watched on TV?:
The opening days of the Iraq war, more than a year ago. I mean it.
4: WITHOUT LOOKING, guess what the time is:
Um, 10:30?
5: now look at the clock, what is the actual time?:
10:08
6: with the exception of the computer, what can you hear?:
My kids playing a game
7: when did you last step outside? what were you doing?:
About half an hour ago, and I was going down to the tire place to deliver some tires to have them balanced. (it's a beautiful, beautiful day)
8: before you came to this website, what did you look at?:
mom-on-roof's diary
9: what are you wearing?:
My Eddie Bauer jeans (most comfortable jeans in the WORLD), a pink ribbed tank top, a white button-down blouse, unbuttoned
10: did you dream last night? what about?:
I don't remember
11: when did you last laugh? why?:
A few minutes ago, because my daughter was being silly
12: what is on the walls of the room you are in?:
This is shameful. We have lived in this house for, what, eight years almost? And one wall has built-in shelving which is cluttered up with DVDs, videos, pictures, and stuff, but the rest of the walls have NOTHING. We even own prints which we want to put up but we never get around to getting them framed. Because we are lame.
13: seen anything weird lately?:
Just the guy across the street -- it's possible that he's totally normal but I get a really WEIRD creepy don't-trust-him vibe from him every time he talks to me. He said hello to me when I walked out the door and I said a very quick no-eye-contact hello and got in the car.
14: what do you think of this quiz?:
It's more interesting than a lot of quizzes. And I love quizzes.
15: what is the last film you saw?:
The Passion of the Christ and The Return of the King on the same evening in the theater.
16: if you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy first?:
Property and a house.
17: tell me something about you that most people don't know:
Well, my life is pretty much an open book, except for some things that most people don't know because I don't WANT most people to know them -- which means I'm not going to post about them here either.
18: if you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?
I am torn between being sincere or smartalecky here, so I'll do both. Sincere: Everyone would consider each other's needs and be courteous. Snotty: Nobody would automatically go into squeaky-voice mode when talking to children; that drives me utterly bananas.
19: do you like to dance?:
Only when I'm alone.
20: George Bush:
...is a good man whom I admire who has also done some things I'd rather he hadn't.
21: imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?
Well, my first child wasn't a girl. My second child was, and her name was Natalie. Or if I had another girl (which I never will) I'd name her Elizabeth Anne after my two favorite Austen characters.
22: imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?
My first son was a boy, and he has a name so unique that I'm afraid if I put it in this diary you'd be able to track us all down and stalk us. So I'm not going to mention it. Sorry. :)
23: would you ever consider living abroad?
Maybe in the short term.
24: will you pass on this survey?
Well, I'll post it in my diary, which is pretty much the same idea.
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Thursday, April 08, 2004
the first part of my day
Courtesy of Diarist.net:
What is the first hour of your day like? Does what happens then have an effect on the rest of your day?
I am blessed to be able to be a stay-at-home homeschooling mom, so the first part of my day sometimes varies, but here's as close to a "typical" one as I can get.
- 5:00 a.m. T's alarm goes off. He shuts it off and then lies in bed snuggling with me (which generally also includes groping on his part, not to be too graphic...) while I try to simultaneously be glad that I have such a loving husband AND avoid waking fully. Eventually T gets up to get ready for work, sometimes has to ask me which laundry basket has the clean t-shirts, and then comes in just before he leaves to give me a kiss goodbye. Again with the mingled attempts at enthusiasm and unconsciousness.
- 7:00 or so Between seven and seven-thirty, C wakes up and comes crawling into my bed with me. Sometimes she goes back to sleep but usually she lies there and sings songs, pets my face, hugs me, pets my hair, and tries to converse with me, while I again try to seem cheerful when really all I want to do is sleep ... a ... few ... more ... minutes. Also, this whole time I feel awful because this is such a sweet moment, and I should really and truly be enjoying it and savoring it, and in a way I do, but definitely not as much as I should. At some point I become (regretfully) fully awake, kiss C all over her face, climb out of bed (to C's immense joy), pull on some clothes, make the bed (oh, spreading up those blankets when they're still warm from my sleeping self is so difficult! I just want to burrow back in...), and go out to the front room. Then I fix C's breakfast and turn on the computer to check the email, read my comics (For Better Or Worse, Rose Is Rose, 9 Chickweed Lane, Luann, Agnes, Get Fuzzy, Barkeater Lake, and Pearls Before Swine) and any diaries/journals which may have been updated by that time (with an actual occasional squeal of glee if I see that porktornado, mom-on-roof or sundry have updated). LT doesn't generally stumble out of bed until 9-ish. He sleeps like a teenager. Then he has breakfast and we head to the schoolroom for the rest of the morning.
reliving your youth 101
Yesterday was a rare thing: I had the house to myself (yes, MYSELF) from about 9:30 on. That's when my parents came by to say hi, and I nearly begged them to take the kids because T and I wanted to go see Return of the King at the "old" theater in the next city over in the evening while we still could. See, a big new megaplex came in downtown and now the theater by the mall is reduced to the level of a dollar theater, with second-run kind of movies -- is that what second-run means? Movies that are no longer in the little top five box at IMDB and are only a month or two from coming out on video? I am definitely not fluent in film-ese -- except that it doesn't COST a dollar, it still costs EIGHT FREAKING FIFTY. ANYWAY. I found out on Tuesday that ROTK was playing there, which it hadn't been on the weekend so I don't know how that happened seeing as theaters generally only change their movies on Fridays, right? But whatever. Anyway. I just read the trilogy for the first time, having been a loyal C.S. Lewis acolyte for years, but having never been able to "get into" Tolkien until this year, and T and I had rented the first two movies on DVD and enjoyed them a great deal -- me in spite of all the STUPID CHANGES they made.
Good LORD I am straying off topic in every direction here. Breathe, Rachel. [pause]. OK.
So we wanted to go to the movies so I begged my parents to take the kids and they DID, they went and had a marvelous time helping Dad cut pipe. And while I was lonely (I really honestly do enjoy my own children's company -- so sue me), I was kind of looking forward to a day of, oh, reading, and relaxing, and going to the library, and maybe getting a little housework done. But here's what happened instead. Right after the kids left, the pest control guy called about the enormous seething mass of carpenter ants which is trying to eat the underside of my house as I speak. He said he would be by "sometime after noon". I mopped the floor and cleaned the kitchen, realized I had fully missed my library window since I had to be back by noon, thought, oh no, what if the man needs to look INSIDE the house, dashed around cleaning, folded some laundry (watching Pride and Prejudice, of course; my hands don't know how to fold laundry if Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy aren't on the screen in front of me. Honestly I tried using "How to Lose A Man in 10 Days" [which is a vapid but funny movie, rented not owned] and it just didn't work), and then I finally at least had a little time to sit down and read. Which was nice. But my days-to-myself never end up quite like I think they will. At least I did relive my youth a bit while I tidied up -- I was listening to Tchaikovsky. I played "1812 Overture" and "Marche Slave" twice each, complete with goofy ballet moves and multiple breaks to conduct the parts that you just simply HAVE to conduct. Or I do anyway. Romantic-era music is just perfect for those hormone-laden teenage years, what with all the passion and agony and ecstasy and the drawn-out-ha-you-just-THOUGHT-it-was-over-but-really-we're-going-to-drag-out-the-beautiful-agony-just-a-little-bit-longer endings. I spent half my time when I was seventeen, it seems like, lying on my bed in my room conducting Tchaikovsky and Rossini and even the occasional bit of Beethoven and Schumann even though they were Classical rather than Romantic (but oh, the pain! the beautiful pain!).
ANYWAY again. Eventually T made it home and we made it just in time to the theater, and check this out: we had the whole place to ourselves. Well, not the whole BUILDING, I'm sure there were people in there watching, say, Scooby Doo or Hidalgo or whatever, but the whole, what, auditorium? (again with the lack of film-ese fluency). It was like being in our living room, except the screen was oh so much bigger, and of course the diet Coke cost $4.50. But we had comfy chairs with chairholders and we could sit there and talk out loud to each other about the movie, and I could narrate what was going on for T while he had his eyes covered because of that HORRID HUGE CREEPY WRETCH of a spider -- who belonged in the second book anyway and what was UP with that? I liked the movie better than The Two Towers -- fewer changes from the book, and more understandable ones. I am such a book-to-movie-adaptation snob that sometimes I think I should just put myself under a moratorium and just not watch anything I've read the book for; it would keep me from throwing things at my TV nearly so often. But I can't. And Gollum was worth it, just perfect, he compensated for everything.
So at the end of THAT movie, just as Bilbo and Frodo were about to get in the boat with the elves -- whoops, hope everyone's seen that by now -- we realized that if I just told T the rest of the story, we could JUST make it in time to watch The Passion of the Christ. Being good Christians, of course we were feeling all guilted out (actually, the Christianese term is "convicted", and yes, there IS a language where I'm frighteningly fluent -- I don't know what "second-run" means for sure but I can use words like "Christophany" or "apologetics" or "koinonia" in a sentence...) for using our sitter-tunity to watch ROTK instead of The Passion -- our reasoning being that The Passion would still be available for weeks or months but ROTK wouldn't, but that felt like, you know, leftovers instead of firstfruits or something. ANYWAY. T dashed to an ATM (no we did NOT theater-hop, I know you were thinkin' that) and we bought two tickets for The Passion and for the first time since I was maybe nine I watched two movies in a theater in the same day. (the last time was Gremlins and The Neverending Story in a double-feature, just so you know). And for the first time since the incredibly lame Body of Evidence (which I watched on a date with an equally lame guy), I watched a late movie. Oh my, when I woke up this morning I had all the convincing I ever needed that I am not as young as I used to be.
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