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Lately I'm feeling sad about getting old. With the appearance of each new grey hair and the skin on my neck refusing to stay put, it's undeniable that its happening. Aging. I never thought it would happen to me. I also never thought I would have become a heroin addict, or a single parent, but that happened too. Believe it or not I'm grateful for all of it. Except the getting old part. It's so fucking high maintenance. Creams and potions and hair color and blah blah blah. When I was young I could just roll out of bed, no makeup or bra, throw my hair in a ponytail and hit the streets running.

I was frivolous with relationships, knowing there would always be another around the corner. Always on the take, trying to get what I could out of everyone around me, never considering that I should actually be doing some giving. Blaming everything on everyone else, never wanting to take responsibility for my own decisions. Self will run riot.

Youth really is wasted on the young.

I guess the beauty of aging is the life experience and knowledge that comes with it. Notice how I didn't use the word "wisdom" there. I wouldn't go that far. It seems unfair that by the time you get to the place in life where you feel ok on the inside, know who you are and what you do and don't want in your life, you are suddenly middle aged. Weird. This whole thing is a trip. But I keep trudging forward on the path of happy destiny. Cheers.