self portrait
project 52, week 41
People claim to be old souls, but sadly, I don't think I qualify as one. I wish I did, though, because it sounds much more intriguing than what I am: perpetually unable to act my age. Instead of wisdom beyond my years, I have incessant "that's what she said" jokes and the ability to make anything to sound inappropriate. I still skip in parking lots, I jump on trampolines, and I forget to eat on occasion.
Despite this, I'm really not a party person. I knit. I own a rocking chair. I love to bake, read, and listen to frank sinatra. My favorite piece of music of all time is by Aaron Copland. I claim to be an eighty-six year old woman in a twenty-nine year old body, and my husband will vouch for that claim.
Which leaves me sure of one thing only: I love to laugh, and will crack a joke about pretty much anything. Unfortunately. (It gets me in trouble a lot.) But it keeps life interesting.
People claim to be old souls, but sadly, I don't think I qualify as one. I wish I did, though, because it sounds much more intriguing than what I am: perpetually unable to act my age. Instead of wisdom beyond my years, I have incessant "that's what she said" jokes and the ability to make anything to sound inappropriate. I still skip in parking lots, I jump on trampolines, and I forget to eat on occasion.
Despite this, I'm really not a party person. I knit. I own a rocking chair. I love to bake, read, and listen to frank sinatra. My favorite piece of music of all time is by Aaron Copland. I claim to be an eighty-six year old woman in a twenty-nine year old body, and my husband will vouch for that claim.
Which leaves me sure of one thing only: I love to laugh, and will crack a joke about pretty much anything. Unfortunately. (It gets me in trouble a lot.) But it keeps life interesting.
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