The World As Mare Sees It...
Father Time Is Annoying. 2002-10-21

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Diaryland

Operation Mini-Skirt Status: -24 lbs.

Days to England: 23

Mood: Pretty good, actually, for a Monday...

So, yesterday, I had a very... weird... kinda day. Like, a very old day. I mean, everything I did was of the... aged...

Right, let's start in the morning. I got up early on a Sunday. Right there, you've got to suspect that something isn't quite right. And what did I do at such an early hour?

I coloured my hair.

That's right, I dyed my hair... but not an interesting shade of auburn, not a dramatic yet tasteful shade of scarlet, not even a mere highlight of claret.

No, what I did was get as close as my natural dark brown as I could, and the only thing I could think of as I rinsed out the colouring goo was, "Finally! Those rogue whites are covered!"

A little later on in the morning, my sister and I met some friends for brunch, of all things. Brunch!

See, I know it's the most fashionable meal for GenXers right now, (kinda like drinky lunches were for corporate suits in the seventies, and breakfast meetings for Hollywood movie producers in the eighties) but frankly, I just don't get it.

Yesterday's restaurant served brunch until two o'clock. Well, isn't that lunch? What's the difference? Is it because they still serve breakfasty items? That's got to be it. But that doesn't even ring true, either. My parent's took us to Sunday brunch a few times when we were kids, to this fairly large fine-dining establisment. Hell, I remember there being a whole pig on a spit, with an apple shoved in it's mouth, ready to be oohed and awwed at, and then mercilessly carved up. That's breakfasty? See, I didn't think so.

If you want to know the truth, I think it's all about hangovers. Seriously. You go out on a Saturday night; you get yourself firmly in your cups, and end up passing out about five in the morning. Then, you roll out of bed at 11, and who knows what degree of molten lava you stomach is in, right? I myself have experienced both states... I either groan with pain at the sight of water, or I have need for a bowl of cereal topped with 4 eggs and a pizza.

Voila, the brunch! A variety of hangover cures, from coffee to Bloody Marys. And for some, both at the same time.

I've digressed the hell away from my day, havenít I?

Right, so my sister and I enter the restaurant, and I've said maybe 3 words to the hostess in my famously distinctive voice, when all of a sudden I hear a quiet voice bidding me hello. I look over, and it's Hamlet's older brother.

Now, you have to understand, once upon a time, I thought this young gentleman to be the pinnacle of theatrical talent, wonky intelligence and sexual charisma.

Things have changed in the several years since I've laid eyes on him.

He introduced me to his softly pretty and very pregnant wife. They've been married a year and a half, and of course he doesn't live in the weird and wonderful downtown loft I would have pictured. Instead, they've settled into a lovely suburban neighbourhood. And my older and sophisticated hero? Well, he looks... established. He's inherited his father's stoutness, but not, thankfully, his receding hairline. His face is still boyish, if a tad fuller, and his curls are still abundant. Nevertheless, it was a remarkable lesson in the consequences of time.

I, thank God, looked fabulous.

Right. On with the day...

During our meal, my sister and our friends spoke of mortgage rates and window treatments. We amazingly kept gossip to a minimum, which is perhaps why I didn't feel that odd mixture of guilt and indigestion afterwards.

Later on, we went to a drugstore so I could pick up some potassium supplements. I'm taking POTASSIUM, people! My Day-27-on-Survivor-style diet doesn't allow me any bananas, and I actually care enough to take the supplements. A couple of years ago, I wouldn't have cared enough to take a Flintstones!

I spent a quiet day, and ended up under the covers by 10.

What did I tell you?

Old! I'm getting old! However, I will not shirk it. I will celebrate each year with pride and dignity!

And next May, you all are invited to my First Annual 29th Birthday Party...

Splendid day, everybody.

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iimage: Jack Vettriano