Old Age Day by Day January 31, 2011

At my friend's workshop I worked on valentines. I thought I could take them up when I visit my granddaughter, and we could embellish them together. She has plans for me - she has already warned me. Not quite three, she is the ruler of all she surveys. I am but her humble subject.

We had a nice dinner last night at one of those places where small plates means a plate the size of a saucer with only one quarter of it covered in anything edible. So for six people, we would need slightly under fifty plates to feel full, and it would take all night to be served. Let's face it, these places are for people who have so many cocktails they don't notice that they haven't actually eaten. Our younger son was starved, and probably swung by McDonalds on his way to our daughter's apartment for the birthday cake. Needless to say, everyone had a large helping, even I, who was actually full enough, but tense from the restraint of not ordering twenty two small plates for myself. I do NOT eat sugar, but somehow, intending to have only one bite, I ATE THE WHOLE PIECE. Oh, dear.

I need to purge myself, no doubt, but instead, I had pineapple and blueberries, tea and shredded oats with milk and banana. Somehow, there is a renewed fear of starvation triggered by last night's dinner. In the movie "The Way Back" the escaping prisoners came upon wolves eat some poor beast, and they drove the wolves off to take their place. It was that kind of vibe that gripped me and I must now calm down. In real life, I am a chubby lady with no experience of lack of food, and I have never been deprived in my life. Well, except for these small plate restaurants, which are fine in Spain, because, after all, you're in Spain, but inappropriate in the land of biggie sized and triple quarter pounders.

Old Age Day by Day January 30, 2011

It rained all night. I think we needed it and the air is so fresh. My husband and I did a Saturday night double feature, seeing the 1930s Alice in Wonderland with Cary Grant and Gary Cooper and many other great actors of the 30s, then watched Inception. So we were into dreamlife last night. I found the Alice charming, thought being in black and white seemed illogical. But it had a delightful actress as Alice, and a lot of funny bits, plus animation woven in. Inception struck us both as a film with too many loose threads and messiness, when it should have played to its strengths. My husband said it was a movie with two characters and a bunch of action heroes, and that was one of it's major problems. Marion Cotillard and Leonardo di Caprio were first rate, but they made everyone else seem cardboard. I wanted to see more of the theme of loss and memory, but Nolan muddied the waters with too much talk and not enough coherence. And the "architecture" of the scenes was not original enough or interesting, except for the one scene with the streets going perpendicular (an idea stolen from those laminated maps of Paris that I use when I travel there) and the glass doors. Ellen Page was horribly miscast as the architect, and it hurt the whole movie. I am still in love with Ken Watanabe. That love will never die.

After two dream themed films, the only dream I remember having is about my baseball team winning the World Series, so evidently I would be a totally banal architect. And it probably says something about Inception, that it did not disturb me, which, if it was a great film, it would do. Alice, well, Alice is a delight, but not troubling in any way. Her dream seems benign, and logical as well, even if there is a political metalanguage throughout. In her world, escape is possible, and return comforting, with all the frustrations and confusions worked out. Her dreaming resolves conflicts.

Well, back to the Sunday papers, and then my mystery, until I do a collage workshop and have dinner with our kids for our older son's birthday. The days are whizzing by like a dream, and this part of growing older is definitely disturbing!

Old Age Day by Day January 29, 2011

My husband went to the doctor! And he had a sinus infection! And he's taking medicine! What is it with men and doctors, anyway? They won't do checkups, they don't take the preventative tests, they seem to expect their signifigant others to diagnose and medicate with meat loaf and mashed potatoes. It's not that men are from Mars and women from Venus, it's that they are such strikingly different life forms that no interspecies interaction is possible (except for, you know). The brains, the languages are too different for even possible translations.

But he's in the hands of professionals now. And his doctor, a woman, by the way, persuaded him by saying "Go ahead and have a stroke, you big dummy" or something to that effect. The sheer force of her anger woke him out of his slumber, and like Sleeping Beauty, he took the apple, or whatever. The metaphor is too banal, even for me.

He's sleeping as I speak, because he actually got some medical help with his cough. Which meant I slept much better last night, and had no dreams of Thomas the Engine struggling uphill or tubercular wards in the mountains of Switzerland. Relief!

At least until next time he won't do the rational thing and prefers to analyze his condition by remote control and the help of a gullible wife.

Old Age Day by Day January 28, 2011

It's foggy this morning and the pictures in the paper show a snowed in east coast. Well, it is only January. Where I live it's easy to forget. But when we lived in Colorado, January was the coldest month and it would not get above O the whole time. The ice is hard to deal with: on the windshield, sidewalks, the black ice on the roads. Those were the days when I would drive to a nearby mall and stroll the baby round and round and round. That was if I could get out of my own driveway. The garage was behind the house, so it was a long driveway to shovel. Ugh!

So perhaps even here today is a good day to read and snuggle up with the dogs. I have about a dozen books next to my side of the bed, and, as usual, I've begun half of them, then switch, then back again. I'm a restless reader nowadays. And then when I discover a book that really grabs my attention, I devour it. The best is to discover a new author and have a bunch of other books to buy after I finish the first. But that is rare for me. I'm not really a snob, I just have trouble being gripped by novels especially. Mysteries are easier, and non-fiction. I've heard "Unbroken" by Laura Hillebrand, is great, so maybe I'll try that.

In the meantime, there are chores and phone calls and a cake to buy for our son. But I haven't quite discovered the carrot to get me through the day.

Old Age Day by Day January 27, 2011

I just returned from the eye doctor and am fuzzy visioned at best. Please excuse any typos. I become a nervous wreck when I have to do that test where you punch a mouse when you see the light flash. It makes me so jumpy I'm pressing out of anticipation, and seeing lights all over the place. And keeping my eye on the middle light is a tough challenge when my eye wants to search the field and seek and destroy. This must be similar to video games where the player is shooting the enemy with lightning speed. I find all my competitive instincts warring with the knowledge that this is supposed to be an accurate assessment of my field of vision TO HELP ME. Oops!

I guess I went a little crazy, but anyway, though I needed a new prescription for my glasses, all was well, and I treated myself to new sunglasses in green and regular glasses in turquoise. My old ones were so ancient he couldn't find the records. I'm sick of them, and in a week or so I'll be a whole new woman. Or something.

While I was waiting in the room for the tests, another lady my age began joking about filling out the forms, and we had a nice conversation for a few minutes. How delightful these serendipedous encounters can be. Instead of patients, we became interesting individuals for a few minutes, flexing our humanity in the face of waiting rooms and shuffling offices. It's instinctive to insist that we have senses of humor, and can be good natured, but also appreciate that little bit of acknowledgement we gift each other with. Aren't people amazing?!

Old Age Day by Day January 26, 2011

I'm about to go get a haircut. This involves being careful to never look in the mirror at myself, and pretending to look with the hand mirror at the back of my head. I do not want to contemplate myself in such a public fashion. As I have said before, my idea of hell on earth is to be stuck in a salon with people doing facials, manicures and the like. I do not enjoy public grooming. It's not that I hate my face, I don't, but comparing my face to the ones with mascara who are decades younger is not my idea of a treat.

So I will gird my loins and pay way to much to have a 1/4 inch trim, but it is necessary, as I have unruly, fast growing, tangly hair, and it needs trimming. When I leave I will feel like a pardoned prisoner looking up at the sky after a long sentence. It will feel sunnier, the sky bluer, the breeze gentle.

And after I go home and rewash and dry my hair, getting rid of the style and spray, I will feel my usual, messy self, only deliberate, not chaotic.

Old Age Day by Day January 25, 2011

My husband has had a cough for months and months, but won't see the doctor. It's his business, but he makes it mine by acting as if I can diagnose him. I find this surpassingly strange, as I am not of the scientific bent, and though I have a few friends who are doctors, no medical know-how has rubbed off that I can see. He feels safe with me, he doesn't with the doctors, but what he forgets is that I am useless. I am mightily sick of hearing about his cough, and I mean in both senses. He keeps me up at night coughing, or coughing, getting up and going downstairs for tea, and in the daytime he wants to discuss it. It's a pretty boring topic, at this point. I am sympathetic, but have no new advice. Go to the doctor. Don't go to the doctor and try homeopathic medicine or acupuncture. Drink tea and sleep sitting up.

We've been married a long time. I'm kind and supportive - and then - I am done and just want him to solve his own problem. There is a statute of limitations on complaining and I have now reached it in regard to the subject of coughs. All complaints must now be addressed to a higher authority - either spiritual, medical or strangers on the street. When I'm done, I'm done.