Who Doesn’t Love Raisins?

I have never been one to embrace getting older, to cherish the wisdom I’ve gained. To trace each wrinkle as an experience and accept death as a continuation of life. I just cannot go there. I have been blessed with good genes that allow to me to look younger than I am and a fashion sense that while not inappropriate, clearly states F*^# you, I don’t care if you think I’m too old for overalls, I’m wearing them anyway. Interestingly enough, the one thing I have taken away from getting older is that when I catch myself in the mirror, overalls, tattoos, whatever, I’m not thinking somewhere in the back of my mind that I look ridiculous. I’m thinking I look adorable. This is quite the new concept for me. And I will admit that immediately following that thought is, but do others think I’m adorable? Quirky? Fun and Funky? Or just batshit crazy? Are they comparing me with the crazy old lady with a magenta beehive, blue eyeshadow and lipstick down to her chin? It’s hard to let go of old fears and feelings of shame. But it’s so freeing. I just got a shoulder tattoo. A kinda big, beautiful shoulder tattoo. Responses have ranged from “Beautiful!” to complete silence, with varying degrees of approval or disapproval in between. And for the first time in my memory, I just don’t care. I &@^*ing love this damn tattoo. Love it. Just as I’m sure the old magenta-haired dame loves her blue eyeshadow and circles of rouge. And while I still cannot comprehend a world in which I am old, infirm, or Heaven forbid, *whispering*, DEAD, I know that whether I embrace it or not, it comes for us all. And ya know what? I plan on being adorable right to the finish line.