What's up with this Prince song inside my head?

My ankle is finally, finally feeling better.  You know, from hurting it by walking down a set of stairs.  Considering that I signed up for the SC Mud Run on October 13, I better get to stepping and start some serious exercise.  Unfortunately last week, I jammed my hand and now it hurts to open a jar or shift my car into drive and it's just in general bugging me.  I have made the sobering realization that I'm at that age where something on my body is bound to be hurt or aching.  At least something.

This getting old is getting old.  Some other loose observations as I age ungracefully:

- Earlier this month, former teen star Miley Cyrus made the news for cutting her long hair into a choppy pixie cut.  I was so jealous.  I really wish I had the face to pull off a short haircut.  But even if I did, if I got that haircut at my age, it wouldn't be a cute pixie cut--on me, it would be declared soccer mom hair.  That is so ugh and unfair, right? 

- Though I finally broke 150 this year, I probably won't really aim to lose much more poundage per se, because I already noticed that now when I lose weight, I'm not necessarily losing it where I want (my jowls, chins, saddlebags, calves, belly) but losing it in areas where I like to keep the weight to balance out my proportions (my bosom, rear end, hands).  Bottom line--I figured out that even if I were to reach my 20-something weight (which was around 135), I'm not necessarily going to have my 20-something body.  Because I don't remember being a pear with a shriveled rack and butt, fat head with 3 chins, and with veiny hands worthy of offering Snow White a poisoned apple in my 20s.  Sigh.  I guess I can definitively say I don't have that Benjamin Button disease.

- I'm in that zone where I'm more often not perceived as "cool" to my daughter.  When I recently started singing along to a song she had put on, she flatly requested, "Mom, please stop.  You're ruining it."  When she said that, her eyeroll cut harder than the one I gave the dad at the mall who was doing his back-to-school shopping with his kids wearing a "Senor Frog's Drinking Team" t-shirt.  Wow, is that irony, payback, or karma?

- The other day four different people told my daughter that she looked "just like her mother".  Her expression was somewhere between mild horror and the polite disappointment of a kid excited she was getting a present and it turned out to be tube socks.  Don't worry, I assured her that she is much lovelier than me as evidenced by this proof:

Exhibit A: 7th Grade pix of me & the girl

- I'm starting to lose a sense of decorum.  The last two times a cashier cheerfully picked up the bag of chocolate chips I was buying and excitedly asked, "Oooooo, what are you going to do with these?"  Both times I answered honestly that I would most likely (like the previous purchase) be eating them straight out of the bag, by first sprinkling them on a butter knife that I had dipped into a jar of peanut butter.

- I can't remember the last movie I saw in the movie theater where I didn't fall asleep in the middle of it at some point.

- Though I haven't reached Grandpa Simpson status of writing to the "sickos at Modern Bride magazine" for not publishing people with wrinkles in their pages, I could not help from responding to this crazy rant in the local Free Times:

With one of my own:

In hindsight I wish I had the mature tone of the response below mine.

Yeesh, did I say I was getting old?  Maybe I'm already there.