Too Old to Fake It

As a young woman I cared about the feelings of others to such a degree that I lied to them. At the time I thought that putting on the cheery face and telling people what they wanted to hear would make life better for us all.

Yep. I was a dumbass. I had more energy then. I haven't become wiser. I'm just too tired for that nonsense. The way I figure it now, if you want lies - watch TV. I'm just not up for the cost of faking it anymore.

Some recent examples.

This Chickie Thinks #2

Dear Auspicious Jots,
When you have told a gentleman that you just want to be friends... are you allowed to change your mind?
Sincerely,
Old Gal

Wow! This one is a zinger.

This Chickie Thinks #1

Welcome to the weekly advice column of Auspicious Jots where we take concepts like "advice" and "weekly" pretty loosely. Like all advice columns I accept questions. Because I am new and foolish, I will take all kinds of questions until someone offends or stumps me, at which point I will take all kinds of questions except those.

A Toast to Continuing Education

The dogs need to go out. The bills need to be paid. I am in my jammies at 11. I need to go to work. And I should probably be concerned by that screeching of children followed by a loud banging.

But instead... Sounds like blogging time to me.

Homework

Even bloggers get homework. In an effort to fix some of the issues that have plagued this blog I am taking a class. This class has promised to help me be more techno savvy. Those of you who have read the blog from the start know that my original blog name was Rev. Luddite so this knowledge does not come easy.

Postcards

You know why I can’t remember numbers? It could be because I can feel and taste music and colors. Or imaybe it is because I have never recovered numerical memory since I had viral meningitis. Maybe I hold my cell phone too close to my head. I am sure one of these excuses is the culprit. All are equally true.

One of my buddies is a postcard dude. Sends me great ones. From his travels or with funny pictures. They all just have a line or two. He could have emailed, texted, or tweeted any of them. But he is a postcard dude.

Most of the nooks in our home have one of his postcards propped in them by now. They are a testament to his retro cool style and his friendship. They are constant reminders of my failure as a postcard gal.