Posted in Randomy Goodness

Pain in the neck

I just put pain-relieving cream on my neck and left shoulder area. I’m an athlete, always moving, who took it too far? Oh, no. I hurt myself by holding a book whilst sitting in my car at the park for a while, followed by an hour-long phone call during which I held the phone’s receiver between my right shoulder and ear, instead of my hand, with my head up straight.

I put pain reliever on my body because of a book, a bucket seat, and an old-school landline phone.

At least this injury took some doing. I remember a few years ago when I pulled a leg muscle stretching before getting out of bed, and the time I worked a temp job that didn’t appreciate employees’ need for a chair with arms and an ergonomic mouse set up, causing legitimate back pain from my arm dangling for hours as I clicked.

This latest “injury,” and I’m using that term loosely, is simply caused by the fact that my muscles and body are no longer easy to abuse (not that this qualifies by any stretch of the imagination — which is stretching I wouldn’t do lest I injure my imagination as well). And why can’t I sit in an uncomfortable position holding a book for hours and cradle a phone receiver with my shoulder? Because I’m no longer a youngin’.

*in my whispy old-timer voice* I remember when I could stay up all night, falling asleep during summer breaks at 6 a.m. and waking at noon feeling refreshed. Now, I’m lucky if I stay awake past 11 on Friday night. Back in the day, I could half-hang off the couch, upsidedown, and read for hours. Now, I need my reading glasses, which I often can’t find, and apparently a back pillow and frequent breaks to rest my eyes, my arms, and my neck. And yeah, it wouldn’t have been an issue had I used my newfangled 21st century cell phone (of course, that will give me brain cancer, but at least my neck wouldn’t hurt, eh). But I like my Princess phone and the landline sounds better (still).

Buffalo Chicken Dip
Cheesy Buffalo chicken dip. Not shown: Antacid.

Am I truly old? No. But obviously I’m on my way. How old am I? I’m I pull neck muscles holding a book in my car and a phone with my shoulder old. I’m I have to take antacid before eating (and often the morning after eating) Buffalo chicken wings old. And now I’m I complain about my aches and pains old.

I’m too young for my AARP card or to start buying that insurance that only covers funerals. But my body’s making me feel like I’m half-dead sometimes. *sigh*

Speaking of time, what time is it? 3:30? Oh, I have to start getting ready for the early bird special at 4. Ooh! Buffalo wings *pops an antacid*

Posted in Randomy Goodness

Waving the White Hair

It’s official. On Thursday, December 8, I finally conceded defeat. After years now of finding and foiling its plot, I am becoming outnumbered and simply can’t go on fighting.

Little white hairs pop out on my hairline. I see some springing to life in my part. And for a long time, I would seek and destroy, plucking them from within their auburn nest. They were short by the time I caught them white-handed. They were (and still are) extremely outnumbered by brown comrades.

Woman pulling white hair
Artist rendering of the actual event.

But that morning, as I brushed my beyond-the-shoulder length tresses, one popped up on the side, springing to life with a curl all the white hairs apparently long to be. And it was more than half as long as the surrounding brown hairs.

How did you get by me, you little bugger, I thought. I shouldn’t have been surprised, because last year, I bought my first pair of reading glasses at the dollar store (simply because companies are making the text on products and boxes much smaller now, of course). This long white curly hair mocked me, daring me to pluck it.

I thought about it, but then decided to let it be.

Anderson Cooper is older than me and has been white-haired since his 20s, he has said. I accepted, hell, I celebrate the laugh lines around my eyes, which I’ve had for decades. I EARNED those. Well, maybe I earned the white hairs, too, if only by living as long as I have so far on planet Earth.

It’s no biggie anyway, right? I look younger than I am (coworker, bless his heart, guessed 30 and admitted he thought he was guessing too high, and I’m frequently asked what college I go to, still). Plus, the brown hairs still maintain control, for now. Go ahead, white hairs! Come in and curl ’til your heart’s content. I won’t bother you anymore (of course, I can’t see most of you, so that’s a help).

But look out, white eyebrow hair. You stood out like a sore thumb (especially in the magnifying mirrors) so you had no hope of survival. Of course you return incessantly, unlike many a brown hair I plucked by accident (WHY DOES THAT HAPPEN?). I haven’t given up on you… yet. I wonder how long it will be until that one gets a few more friends…

For now, though, white head hairs, be free! I surrender.