While I am Here

Getting old. I always assumed that it would happen when I was 50, maybe 45 depending on my lifestyle choices. I am sad to say that as it turns out, it happens when you are 26 years, 10 months, and 3 days.

I found a white hair on my head- not gray, white. And in the same week noticed a small age spot on my face, about an inch below my right eye.

One white hair and one small spot seems pretty insignificant, but it simply points out that I am heading towards- though gradual- my end. Or so I first thought.

I started thinking about all I have done, seen, survived. Let me give you an abbreviated list:

1. being born. Horrifying.
2. growing up in a rural nightmare, devastatingly void of any art, culture, or inspiration.
3. surviving Jr. High
4. traveling through Spain, racing cars illegally for $, breakups, breakups, and more breakups.
5. married and divorced.
6. sold first painting for $3,500.00, decided I didn't want to be a painter.
7. attended 3 colleges and 1 university all without suffering the blemish of obtaining a bachelors degree.
8. moved to NY. Lived in NY. Wondered about the popularity of Dunkin donuts while in NY.
9. Worked for wretched people.
10. worked for one wonderful woman, who moved to Texas and who I miss everyday.
11. Started my own business. Didn't sleep for a year. Drank lots. Felt too happy and too scared all at the same time.
12. met a soul mate.
13. soul mate dumped me.
14. bought a pet dog who pees standing on his front two feet.
15. still here.

That said, if I live as old as my grandmothers are, I'm not even 1/3 of the way done. The good thing being, I have already gone through a lot of the rough stuff. When you live fast and hard when you are young, the benefit is you learn what works and what to avoid early on. It may have given me a white hair and a few scars, but those are cheap payment for the focus it gives the rest of your life. Which actually works out, because here is the short list of everything I still have to do:

1. open my shop in Paris on Rue St.-Honoré in the First Arrondissement
2. adopt a sibling pair (ages 3-7)from Turkey and teach them that cheese, popcorn and pickles is appropriate for dinner and to read comic books in the bath tub.
3. fall in love at least 3 more times
4. buy a Welsh Springer Spaniel for my other dog to converse with
5. write a book of poems and publish it under my first lover's name
6. have a place to hang a hammock

That's about it. I figure I can knock all that out in the next 50 or so years, even if it gives me 5 more white hairs and my skin is not so perfect, heck, it's a steal for a place to hang my hammock.