flightless hag

A chronicle of the adventures of birdwoman: a lonely, talentless freak who wanders the internet in search of entertainment.

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Location: Philly

I'm a 40-something married white female, survivor of weight watchers, avid reader of pulp. Dogs (not cats), extreme right (handed, not politics), ENTJ, alto, wanna-be knitter.

August 28, 2012

OMG I'm old

So, I've been doing a lot of walking, when John's home, that is (mostly because I've had no car this summer... but I digress).

I was walking over in the Ardmore Vapid Plaza. They have a modeling school, a tanning store, a beauty supply shop, a few other stores catering to pretty people... and a liquor store, which was my destination. Now, the thing about Vapid Plaza is that they have this kickin incline for their sidewalk. It is totally top for skate punks. So the VP VP's had to come up with a way to... discourage the boards from boarding. Enter MUZAK. Play some old mellow music and the kool kats disappear.

Case in point, as I was walking, they were playing some Gloria Estefan crooner. Not a bad song, so much, but definitely UNcool. I laughed, knowing it was uncool, and feeling quite self satisfied. On the way out, with my two bottles of Chianti, they were playing KT Tunstall - Big Black Horse and a Cherry Tree. And I was bopping along when suddenly I realized I thought that song was cool, and where it was playing. Gadzooks. Strike 1.

Today, I was schlepta-ing it down to my school to set up my room. One of the things I like to look at are the shoes - man the shoes the folks wear on the septa trains. They are... Well, one guy was wearing what I thought were the ugliest shoes ever. I mean, ick. (they're the blue ones on the right)

And this other guy was wearing these really hip shoes. I mean, aren't these frigid?

And I realized the guy wearing the acceptable shoes was about my age, and the guy wearing the smurf puke was about 18. And my boys would probably call them "sick" which means cool. Yep. Strike 2.

Finally, I went and got a pedicure... my last treat as the summer ends. I picked my polish - purple on the bottom coat, glitter (silvery purple) on the top. I like that look. It's 2008, isn't it? I know it is. Oh, well. It's shiny, and as one of my former co workers used to say about me, I like shiny things. But still, strike 3. I'm out.

Funny thing? I was never actually in. But I could view the styles and tell if they were or not. I can't anymore. And that's the surest sign of fuddy duddy ness.

Well, anyhow. Summer is over, and it's time to go back to school. Where I must not attempt to be cool, because I am a science teacher. Yipee!



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