"Spring 2014"

     It took me weeks to make a decision regarding the Spring 2014 semester.  I procrastinated so long that by the time I went to register, the classes I was interested in were closed.  I had pretty much decided that I would ride this semester out, as my job and commute are both demanding, and I am pretty spent at the end of the day.  Then I went to see 20-something son, who is getting his Master's degree this spring.  He is supportive regardless of which choices I make, but after admitting to him that I had yet to register, I knew I immediately what I had to do.  

     Attending college is difficult, not only for the reasons I mentioned above, but also because of my age.  Sometimes I feel like a foolish old woman futilely chasing the past.  On the other hand,  I am moving forward and growing in spite of aging. I have a purpose in my life.  I am optimistic about the future.  Additionally, I want to continue to set a good example for my sons.  Was I intimidated by the thought of the upcoming semester?  You bet.   However, not meeting this challenge in front of my sons is not an option.  So after some serious scrambling and calculating,  I managed to register for my language course, although I did miss one class.  I actually feel a measure of relief having come to this decision.  At my age, I don't have the luxury of time to be skipping semesters.  But more importantly,  my sons can see me forging ahead.  They are adults, yes, but I still derive a great deal of satisfaction from being a positive influence in their lives, not to mention the self satisfaction I have when I not only pass, but excel in my classes.  Two years ago, I had 12 credits and a 2.9.GPA.  Currently, I have 33 credits and a 3.9 GPA.  I still feel somewhat foolish talking about my grades, though my sense of accomplishment outweighs those negative feelings.  

     I ran into a friend of mine last evening, an older lady.  She was beaming as she related to her friend that I had gone back to college. I cherish that moment. The support of my family and friends means an awful lot to me.  My heartfelt thanks to all who have offered support and encouragement.  Love ya!

"Glaringly Apparent"

I put my new glasses high up on a shelf
After getting a really good look at myself
The crows feet and wrinkles I could never see
Are now glaringly apparent. Oh, woe is me!

     I am really diligent about seeing my optometrist annually after a scare I had a some years back.  The year after my divorce, I made a much needed, overdue appointment to have my eyes checked.  After having this done over many years, I knew what to expect.  So when the doctor was lingering while inspecting my eyes with that super bright flashlight of his, I knew there was a problem.  He indicated that I have a condition that could cause blindness.  He also indicated that, 35 years ago, blindness probably would have been the end result.  But thanks to medical advances, I had a procedure that will prevent it from happening.  (That's one aspect of modern technology that I can appreciate.)

     Ever since that incident, I never fail to see the optometrist on an annual basis, usually at year end. About a month ago, I got new glasses, as is evident in my updated photo.  The doctor had indicated that my prescription hadn't changed that much over the course of the last year.  He was wrong!  Thanks to the new prescription lenses, I have discovered that there are lines on my face and creases in my eyelids, and, horror of horrors, crows feet, that I never new existed on what I mistakenly deemed to be my still somewhat youthful appearing mug. (I know-that was laughable!  Moreover, there is a reason why they say ignorance is bliss!)  Oh I knew that my cheeks had fallen down (when you have full round cheeks in your youth, there is only on place for them to go).  I know my bones are getting creaky and my memory at times is sketchy, but the eyes, oh, the eyes were a real shocker.  Planning ahead,  instead of transition lenses, I think next time I will invest in full blown tinted lenses.  They were stylish years ago.  Like everything else, they are sure to make a comeback.  They can serve as another aid to my age related state of denial.

"Questionable Quality"

     The great procrastinator is at it again.  I have yet to decide on a class for the upcoming Spring Semester.  Well, I had decided on a course, but then I procrastinated about paying for it.  Next thing I knew, I received a letter in the mail indicating that my course had been dropped, I needed to re-register, and to pay at the time of registration.  So I am back online browsing different courses and trying to come to another decision. There is varied criteria for my search-am I interested in the subject, will it apply to my major, is the professor a good teacher?  One tool I like to use is "Rate My Professor".  The site is comprised of students rating their professors in a number of pertinent categories: overall quality, helpfulness, clarity, easiness, and the most crucial of all, hotness!  I'm not kidding! These kids rate their professors on hotness! I found one rating particularly amusing.  A certain professor is rated as being "hot... for his age".  (He can't be more than thirty!)  As for me, the hotness rating is obviously totally inconsequential.  For one thing, any professor that I would find appealing would be considered elderly by these young students.  Additionally, I'm at an age where I am not attending college to find a husband.  What I'm really interested in is a professor's ability to actually teach.  I want someone who will push the class to excel, and not tolerate any nonsense.  But hotness?  No wonder a lot of graduates can't spell or write in sentences if that's the quality that is important to them.

"An Effective Tool"

     FB is supposed to be a "social network", and it is.  But it is also something else.  It is a very effective tool for inflicting hurt.  Whether posts are done wittingly, or unwittingly, a particular post may incite in others sorrow, anger, indignation, any number of negative emotions.  Most likely, people are not even aware that their posts  have the power to hurt someone.  I would venture to say that 99.9% of posts are not meant to be hurtful. However, ponder this when posting:  Is someone viewing pictures you posted from an event he or she was not invited to?  Is someone reading pertinent news that he or she had been completely unaware of?  Have you "unfriended" someone without providing an opportunity to discuss whatever issue you perceive has come between you?  I have had many wonderful experiences with almost all of my FB friends, especially being able to connect with distant relatives and friends that I never get the chance to see.  But there is a down side. I recently realized that the number of friends I have on FB decreased by one.  Strange thing was, I sensed immediately who, though I can only surmise why.   (And yes, I did verify that I was unfriended.  He didn't leave FB.)  All I ever did to this person was love him.  Does he know or even care that he hurt me?  Probably not. Has he ever elected to communicate with me on any level regarding our relationship? Negative!  Have I tried to communicate? You bet!  Has it been an exercise in futility?  Yes again!

     There have been a scant number of other incidents as well, which I choose not to discuss, the most important reason being that, in those instances, the person's intent was not to hurt. My point is, exercise  sensitivity and caution, and be cognizant of timing with your FB activity.   Someone's feelings may be at stake. More importantly, it is cruel to be blatantly insensitive.  Whether you care for a person or not, each of us is deserving of respect and consideration.

       

"Silver Lining"

     Here are some good news/ bad news scenarios affecting my life right now:

     The good news is that I no longer have acne.  The bad news is that it's been replaced by wrinkles.  The good news is I'm the only one in my class with clear skin.  The bad news is I'm the oldest student in the whole damned school. I met with my younger classmates to work on our group project recently.  Scanning the occupants of the school library, I was embarrassed to find that the only people even remotely close to my age in there were the... librarians.

      When I was younger I used to pluck my few stray greys, that is up until the practice began to alter the appearance of my hairline. Of late, I have had to engage in the same practice with my eyebrows.  Thank God for Maybelline.  For without it, I'm beginning to look like a very old Mona Lisa.

     I recently got a new pair of eyeglasses which I think are very striking, and also give me a kind of "bookish" look.  The down side is that the next time I'm eligible for new glasses-I'll be sixty.  Ouch!

    ( Speaking of turning sixty, will I then be compelled to change my blog's title to "Sixty-Something Sophomore"?)

     As previously mentioned, I recently had an older person's test done-bone density.  Receiving my diagnosis was a real wake up call, and it threw an absolute wrench in my age related state of denial.  Yes, I have osteoporosis.  The good news is that my long hair will help camouflage anything that may "arise" because of it. Additionally, when I'm in school, I will be sporting an empty backpack.  Who's to know it will be devoid of books...  And since I'm shrinking (I've already lost an inch)  that presents an opportunity to go out with shorter men, in effect broadening my significantly limited range of options. Every cloud has its silver lining.

  

    

"One Liners and Other Stories""

     So I met with the "boys" Thursday evening,  to work on our final class project .  We have to meet once more, so I suggested Monday afternoon, explaining that I was unavailable in the morning because I have a test.  "Oh? In what subject?" they queried in unison.  "Bone density", I replied morosely.

     I have a friend who indicated that she had been married to "Tony Soprano", except without the money.  I can relate. I was married to "Stanley Kowalski", except without Marlon Brando's looks.

     Speaking of the Ex, we met recently to run some errands and have a cup of coffee.  As he described life with the current "missus", which, by the way, is not exactly heaven on earth, I asked him did he realize that he had married "himself"...I don't think he got my drift...

     I have another friend who indicates he may need rotator cuff surgery.  Suspicious that I may as well, I was asking about his symptoms.  He described the intense pain he has running down his arm when working, as his job entails heavy lifting.  Funny, mine only hurts when I reach in the refrigerator...I don't let that stop me though...

     I was describing to  a  coworker how my hair has a mind of its own. I have a widow's peak, which causes my hair to combat any style I attempt to achieve.  Feeling compelled to show her, she took me by complete surprise when she informed me that I do not have a widow's peak.  I ran (as much as a 50-something can run) to the nearest mirror, horrified to discover that I do not, in fact, have a widow's peak. At least not anymore...I did at one time. I imagine that, unbeknownst to me, it slowly disappeared along with my natural brown hair and full, round cheeks...

"Food for Thought"

     The other evening I met with my young (20-something-if that) classmates to work on our group project.  As much as I detest group projects, I welcome the opportunity to get to know these young fellows.  I tend to be somewhat discriminatory towards today's youth, but these kids are just so nice-good, clean cut kids trying to get an education.  The one young fellow (the one who reminds me of my son) is immensely talented.  For our project, he has done some "drawings" on the computer which are extraordinary. He did them "free hand", so to speak, his tool being a mouse rather than a pencil or paint brush.  He is talented, and loves doing it.  Computer graphics, however, is not his major.  He is majoring in something entirely different.  We asked him why, when he obviously enjoys this so much. His reply was "Well, then it would be work."  That remark got me wondering.  The general conception is that one should find what one loves to do, and then figure out a way to earn a living doing it.  On one hand, this makes perfect sense.  After all, most people do spend the greater part of their lives "working".  But I believe this young man may be on to something.  For example, I have a friend who has been lamenting that she didn't pursue a career dancing when she was younger, and perhaps become a professional dancer.  However, at this time in her life, dancing is her hobby, and she enjoys it immensely.  Would she derive such joy  from dancing now had it been her profession?  One can only surmise.  As for me, yes, I do have regrets that I didn't pursue a writing career as a young adult. But again, I write for enjoyment now.  No pressure, except that which is self imposed.  Writer's block, as I have experienced of late, does not mean that I won't eat or pay my rent.  I have my real job for that.  So would earning a leaving doing that which we love cause a lifetime of enjoying one's work, or a contempt for that which we once enjoyed?  I guess it's up to the individual.  It is food for thought, however.