Eldery lady trapped in my body
So I was trying to add some links to my sidebar today, and then realized I'd forgotten how. Honestly, for someone who works at MIT by day I am a complete Luddite. That got me to thinking about how I *just* learned how to text messages on my cell phone earlier this year. And that got me to thinking about how I'm pretty old school. And sometimes just old. Let's refer to the evidence!
* I miss squat bodied house telephones with lovely rings.
* I hate the annoying electronic ringtones all phones have now.
* As you can see, I'm not a big fan of cell phones.
* I get disgruntled by the failure of baggers at grocery stores to properly pack a bag (heavy stuff on the bottom, fragile stuff on top!)
* When I worked at a library and people would behave badly: try to carry an ice cream cone into the stacks, say, I could feel the older woman within thinking, "Have you no familiarity with the concept of a library?" The older lady sort of wanted to kneecap these folks. She's feisty!
* Are my house slippers old-ladyesque? Huh. Not sure on this.
* I own more than one apron. A full apron and a demi-apron.
* I used to sing old songs or quote old movies and my Bumpa would say, "How do you know that?" as if a young thing like me ought not to have such familiarity w/older media.
* I have a bottle of wheat germ in the fridge (but it's for waffles! The world's best waffles! And only waffles!)
* I have accumulated knowledge of old housekeeping hints: bluing to white things (how many people even know what bluing is, much less have handled it?)
* The lack of letter writing in society saddens me. Email is no substitute!
* It took me longer than my peers to convert from typewriter to word processor to computer.
* I think Gene Kelly is the bee's knees (even though he's dead).
* I have a store of superstitions that I inherited from other old ladies (and thus can't wear opals even though they're lovely and I quite like them because they're not my birthstone and thus would bring me bad luck)
Okay, I'm freaking myself out. I should go listen to my Ipod while writing an email and texting--all at the same time! Screw that. I'm going to bake a cake.
Cake: a happy treat for both old and young ladies! Only problem is that I have to go to the grocery for some ingredients. And the baggers are going to drive me crazy with their poor packing skills. Perhaps I'll avert my eyes.