I am many things. Photogenic is not one of them. I envy those confident souls who regularly post selfies on their social media accounts that broadcast to all their glowing skin, cascading locks, and winning smile. No, that’s not quite right. I don’t envy their good looks. Being a bit of a plain Jane suits me. A bookworm from an early age, even as I became a teenager, the intricacies of makeup application, hair styling, and the ability to throw together a fetching outfit failed to appeal. Why bother with all of that when I’d rather have my nose stuck in a book?
I have a friend—let’s, for anonymity’s sake, call her Polly Pragmatist—who is a devoted reader and a wonderful writer. Zealously tidy long before the publication of Marie Kondo’s The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up, Polly decided years ago that there were far too many books cluttering up her home. At this point, I should probably inform you that I am the opposite. Books line my many shelves, spilling over into nearly every nook and cranny of my home and elsewhere. Books in the garage. Books in my car. Books in nearly every tote bag and backpack and purse I own. Proof that I’m a woman who can think ahead. No matter the situation in which I might find myself, why be caught unawares without a book handy?
ROMANCING THE CRONE
I have friends who view aging as a battle to be waged. One that necessitates an entire armory of weapons at their disposal. An array of expensive skincare products. Botox injections. Cosmetic surgery. These women have no intention of surrendering to Father Time and Mother Nature without a fight. Not any scuffle, mind you. A knockdown, do whatever-it-takes-to-win street brawl.
TRIPPING THE LIGHT FANTASTIC
Some people have an innate sense of grace. I, on the other hand, am a klutz. Not the type who—like a young Chevy Chase on Saturday Night Live—intentionally makes pratfalls for comedic effect. There is no professional skill attached to my clumsiness. No artifice of any sort. I simply am walking along—deep in thought, oblivious to my surroundings—and walk into something. Walls. Poles. Other people.