Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Young

I met someone the other night who knows my dad through work. When I told her hi from him, she said, "oh, he's a dear! I'll tell him I met you when I see him again!" (In order to keep this as anonymous as it is, I'm trying not to be a name-dropper. Sorry about the vagueness.) I felt inspired by this woman and refreshed on my journey to other employment/education.


Yesterday, on IM, my dad said he'd seen this acquaintance and she'd asked a little more about me. He told her my age and some other things, and her comment, which he passed on to me, was that I was a young 36. I laughingly responded that I'm a "young 36" because I haven't lost my curiosity or ability to be silly, but I really think that's one of the reasons people don't think I'm my age. What's the point of growing up if you're going to get stodgy or so focused on one thing that you're boring? If I feel like skipping down the hall, I'll skip down the hall, darn it! You can't stop me. I guarantee I'm more attractive and fun to be around that some 36-year-old who isn't willing to be silly or who isn't interested in the wonderful world around her. I haven't had a date in a few weeks, but that really has nothing to do with this kind of attractiveness. Children like to talk to me, the elderly seem to LOVE me, and people in general seem to find me easy to be around.

If wearing polka dot socks with my red shoes is the reason, I'll keep doing it, laughing to myself all the way.

1 comments:

Roxie said...

Hooray for fun socks! I need to get a larger collection of them.