It's March 15th, exactly one month until I turn 60 years old. Here's what I've been thinking about as I barrel toward this significant milestone.
On the one hand, I've outlived my oncologist's prognosis that I had 10 years to live 13 years ago.
On the other hand, does this mean I'm living on borrowed time and will soon implode or spontaneously explode?
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On the one hand, I'm physically strong and capable.
On the other hand, everything hurts and is stiff in ways that defy medical intervention.
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On the one hand, I'm at an age that I don't stress over what people think if me.
On the other hand, it doesn't appear anyone's thinking of me.
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On the one hand, I'm back to living in my beloved New Mexico.
On the other hand, it might be one of the worst places to get specialty health care, like the cancer care I now need to get in Texas.
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On the one hand, I have such a complicated medical history that I qualified under four different categories to get my medical marijuana card.
On the other hand, there doesn't appear to be a THC for Older Dummies guide available from Amazon. How many gummies can I eat with my prune danish without overdosing?
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On the one hand, I have everything I need and my time maturing has cured me of chasing trends and designer labels.
On the other hand, my time maturing has reminded me of the millions of dollars and hours I wasted chasing and purchasing trends - with this bulbous pear shape no less - in the first place. I could be relaxing in my Italian villa had I not bought all those high-wasted jeans, leg warmers, and shoulder padded jackets. Which, if I still had them would be worth enough to buy that villa again! Waa!!!
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On the one hand, I can write whatever I want without feeling pressure to sell X copies or earn X dollars.
On the other hand, no one wants to read what this old bitty has to say.
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On the one hand I'm grateful for all of life's ups and downs.
On the other hand, I selfishly feel as if I've earned a few more ups.
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On the one hand, Depeche Mode and Jethro Tull are still touring and making music.
On the other hand, headliners don't usually come on stage until past my bed time.
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On the one hand I still have my sense of humor.
On the other hand, fewer people get my jokes. What do you mean, who is Tony Bennett?
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On the one hand, being 60 beats the alternative.
On the other hand, am I too old for radical liposuction?
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I'm not freaking out that I'm turning 60 and yet I'm freaking out a little. It seems like a number solidly in the old category whereas being 50-something tracked with being vivacious and worldly. Now I'm withered and forgetful.
I kid! Of course, I'm kidding. You knew I was kidding, right? There are plenty of super cool people in their 60s and I endeavor to be one of them. But I have questions for the psychic I've booked as part of my birthday celebration (I can hear my pals now, "do you really want to know?")
Should I change my preferred wardrobe to include a boa? The Steve Jobs black turtlenecks with a collection of boa wraps? Or do you suggest I lean into one-size-fits-all flowered caftans?
Is it time to give up on the eat-less-exercise-more formula for weight loss that hasn't worked for decades? Perhaps eat-more-care-less?
Can I get a seniors' discount on rose-colored glasses?
Are there special grants, fellowships, awards, or gigs that recognize invisible older women? Seems like being a 60-year old woman ought to qualify one for something.
Is my brain too calcified to experiment with psychedelics? Would they throw my big butt in prison for doing so? I have a medical marijuana card if that helps smooth things over.
Will I ever find a bicycle seat that does not hurt?
What are my options if my application to donate my body to science has been rejected? I think my
right lung,spinal fluid,teeth,blood,heart,liver, spleen might be worth something to someone.
I welcome your thoughts, too! Mail your advice to me at:
Lisa Haneberg
1234 Old Fart's Boulevard
Apt. No One Cares
Ghost Town, NM 00000