MIA

Unlike Mitch was for 50 days, I have not been missing in action and have a full cadre of witnesses to attest I’m ambulatory and cognizant. Admittedly, I am missing a few parts, like a foot of intestine, an inch of my height, and the true color of my hair. But earlier this week, I found out I was missing something else: collagen!

Duh. I need only to look in the mirror at my wrinkles and wonder who that old gal is staring back. In this case, though, it had a new twist, when I went for my appointment–at the tattoo parlor. “You must be Sue; you have an appointment at noon. Did you bring a picture of what you want done?”

I handed him a copy. “I want it done here,” I said, as I pointed to my upper arm.

He took my arm and gently rubbed it. “Hmm. You know at your age you lack collagen, so the tattoo ink might seep. You see how your other tattoo is blurry? That’s because the dermis becomes thin and loses its structure. The ink particles tend to move around or migrate.”

WTH? Migrating ink in my dermis?

“So I want you to understand your tattoo may not be as vivid and vibrant because of your age.”

Oh, ye gods, a twenty+ year-old, heavily-inked dude with a pierced nose is talking to me like he is a physician and like I am a child. “I understand; let’s do it.”

Thirty minutes later, I walked out of the parlor, sporting my 8th tat. Quite frankly, I don’t care if my new addition blurs or goes south for the winter with the Monarch butterflies. I had to get this done and am very glad I opted out of my 60th-year high school reunion yesterday. I would have been embarrassed for my classmates to see that I’d lost my collagen!

2018: Welcome to the 70’s

1948pennyrev400

I never said, “I’ll be glad to watch this year go; hopefully, next year will be better.”  Every year of my life has brought its challenges and laughter.  Granted, each year has been different–sometimes 360 degrees different, but still each year has been interesting, confounding, and humorous.

As I child, I didn’t like January 1, even though we celebrated my paternal grandfather’s birthday I was bored by the endless, TV football games and dreaded I would go back to school tomorrow.  For me, it was a very long stretch to spring break and summer vacation.  Further, it would be months before the sun shone, the daffodils appeared, and I could rid myself of boots and a winter coat.  I’d be sentenced to a classroom writing a report about George or Abraham, cutting and pasting hearts on doilies, wearing green, ad nauseam.

Admittedly, 2017 changed my life.  While it has been a year of joy and accomplishment, it has been a year of introspection.  Now when a major home improvement needs done, when a big-ticket appliance breaks, when I get the itch for a new car, I make each decision based on a 20-25, year warranty.  Yes, 2018 will bring my 70th birthday.  A most anchoring realization.  I don’t want to replace an air conditioner when I’m eighty, nor dicker with car sales folk.

Happy-New-Year2018

Yet, 2018 will also bring my youngest’s 30th birthday and her magical, fifth year as cancer-free, so I’ll suck it up.  I’ll turn 70.  I’ll publish my first novel in collaboration with my brother.  I’ll get another tattoo, buy a puppy, and take a riverboat cruise on the Mississippi, if I can find someone who wants to tag along.  But most importantly,  I’ll throw a big party in celebration of my youngest, fifth cancerversery.

new-years-eve

Let the ball drop, NYC.  Dr. Suze is ready for 2018!  Happy New Year!