Everything becomes a metaphor for turning fifty. Even this blog. I’m obsessed with it. First I couldn’t stop looking at it, examining it in all its beauty and grandeur. Then it sort of became ordinary looking to me, lost its sparkle. Finally, it wasn’t enough; it needed more. But what? Posts? Pics? Pages? Pizzazz?
I returned to WordPress and studied and studied and studied. I’m determined to do this right.
Well, then I got really wild. I figured out what a widget was. Suddenly it felt like the sky was the limit. The world was my oyster. I created a widget for a category cloud. Never mind that I haven’t figured out how to create any categories yet. (What I really want to create is one of those fancy squares full of words in all different typesets in all different sizes. I just like the way they look and I could think of such cool words.)
But wait, it gets better. I figured out how to upload my Goodreads bookshelf. Now I was really cooking! I even opened up a new Goodreads account just for the purpose of collecting books that focus on the wonders of middle age women (things like books on how to deal with menopause, novels about David Cassidy, picture books about other women’s lives). Oh but wait, Dear Reader… it gets even better. I created a new Page! Oh yes. I was so enamored with my new Goodreads bookshelf that I figured it deserved a whole page of its own. “Books for the Journey” I’m calling it. I love that name. Well, I wish I could say the same about html, but alas, I can’t. And I’m working really hard to be frank and honest as I approach this milestone birthday. If I don’t like something I want to say I don’t like it and not pretend that I do. I don’t like html. I managed, however. I figured out how to upload the code well enough to create a page that displays my books. In one long, lonely column. I love every single book on that page, but they really deserve to be displayed in a more aesthetically pleasing way. And I’m wracking my brain trying to find another format or theme that will give them what they deserve.
I won’t even go into my search for a countdown clock that captures days, hours and seconds. Still, I’ll keep trying to figure this blog thing out.
Just like I’ll keep trying to figure out this fiftieth birthday thing. Some days I’m enamored with the idea that I’ll be 50 in two short months. I’ve become one of those obnoxious women in the grocery store line who insists on telling the clerk who doesn’t card me just how old I’ll be come August 23rd. I study her face for any little sign of shock. (Sometimes I’m satisfied. Sometimes I’m not. Intermittent reinforcement is the most effective kind for encouraging repeat behaviors.) Other days, (like today), I look at photos of myself and wonder when I got these hips and thighs and that slightest suggestion of my father’s jowls. But I digress…
So here I am, a woman on the precipice of her 50th birthday trying to do a blog about it. Dear Readers, please be patient. I’ll keep trying to figure all this out and hopefully make it worth your time to come visit once in awhile. Surely it can’t be too painful and hopefully the final product will be a thing of beauty to behold. One can only hope.
P.S. I’m shamelessly soliciting advice, suggestions and requests—on both the blog and the birthday.
Ideas? Thoughts? Anecdotes? Antidotes?
All will be accepted and considered, with deep gratitude.