Life goes on. Seasons change.
This past Saturday evening, I went to a party of sorts for my university's crew (not crew as in group but crew as in rowing team) alumni. Alumni is the key word here, crew in my university is now defunct. The youngest person there was something like 34 or thereabouts. An interesting collection people, all beautiful, but some more self-assured of their beauty than others (a select few obnoxiously so). Youthful dreams broken by realization of one's own limits, disease, divorce, or just good old fashioned circumstance. The "cool" people then are not necessarily the cool people now, and the uncool people then are sometimes today's coolest. Or hottest. Or both.
I was told by my one of my favorite crew members I hadn't changed much. This is somewhat true, but as I have previously mentioned, I'm a plain person. Keeping your youth is not equal to keeping your beauty, if you only had so much beauty to begin with. Still, I can't help but think there must be a point where the "beauty levels" of a plain girl who stays happy and youthful, and a beautiful girl whose sorrows and meanness work their way into her face cross and the tables turn...
One person said "my contribution to the quake relief effort is to party and shop. It creates tax revenue, and it will boost the economy, which will create more tax revenue." The man does have a point.
I came home to an empty house as the Pumpkin Daddy had taken the Prince and Princess to his parents'. I bathed and went to bed, and got up the next morning at around eight. I had breakfast, did laundry, dusted and swiffed, and then set off to declutter one of the hall closets. I tossed two large trash bags of things that hadn't been used for a whole year, tops. It was a really productive time.
About that same time, one of my newer imaginary friends hosted a walk-a-thon for quake relief. I agreed to sponsor her and her sons, and they (especially the sons) out-performed my expectations. I've paid up as agreed, it's all for a good cause.
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