My Run-In with the Random Word Generator

Sometimes I can’t think of a thing to blog about. Today was one of those days. I was getting rather desperate, so I consulted the Random Word Generator. Perhaps it would inspire me to break through this blockage.

The first word it gave me was “lip”. No. I’m sorry. Maybe this was a bad idea. What on earth could I do with the word lip? Nothing. That’s what.

I kind of got irritated. Curse you, Random Word Generator! You were supposed to save me! But I’m not one to give up. (Especially when I can’t think of anything else to do.)

I noticed that the generator allows one to choose the number of words that get generated at a time. What would be good? Three, I decided. And this was what I got:

unfortunate memory cancer

Okay, granted, that’s a bit bleak, but really, when you think about it, it ought to be a thing. Because who among us doesn’t have memories that they wish they could forget? The sound of Trump’s voice springs to mind.

I, for one, wouldn’t mind erasing some of my past relationships, from beginning to end. I’d also like to apply chemotherapy to some of the idiotic choices I’ve made in the past. And those bell bottoms that I wore in the 70’s? Blot them out of existence. Please. I’m begging you.

True confession: I’ve been getting more forgetful lately, and it’s scaring me half to death. But on second thought, it might have its advantages. Who knows what unfortunate memory cancers I’ve already been cured of?


Like the way my weird mind works? Then you’ll enjoy my book!


If you’ve been in a long-term relationship, you’re probably well-versed in your partner’s stories. You’ve heard them all before. All you have to hear is, “That reminds me of the time when…” and you inwardly groan.

Now imagine writing a daily blog for years on end. After a while you forget which stories you’ve told. Sometimes before I start on a topic, I actually do a search of my own blog to make sure I haven’t covered it before.

I don’t suppose it matters, really. I have only a handful of longstanding faithful followers, and even with them, for some crazy reason, I am not the center of their universe. I could probably get away with a certain level of duplication.

Even so, I don’t know which would mortify me more: someone rolling his or her eyes and saying, “Yeah, yeah, you already told us that,” or someone rolling his or her eyes and saying, “The last time you talked about this subject you had a completely different opinion.”

As with the aging process, the older my blog gets, the more I will risk suffering from “blogheimers”. All I can do is apologize in advance. Because I might forget to do so later.

not again

Requiem for a Lost Thought

This happens to me quite frequently. I’ll have an idea for a really good blog entry just as I drift off to sleep, and when I awaken, it’s gone. There’s this sad empty feeling left behind, and more than a little self-flagellation for not having roused myself enough to write the thought down on the notepad I keep on my nightstand for just such a purpose.

Somewhere there should be a graveyard for those thoughts and ideas that slip away, never to be seen again. Sometimes those thoughts resurrect themselves. One did so while I was driving once, causing me to slam on my brakes, pull over, and write the thing down. It was just that good.

And I do have slips of paper scattered about with the beginnings of ideas. The more frustrating ones are the ones that no longer make any sense to me. I’m afraid to throw them away because one day they might. Again.

And then there are the ones that are perfectly understandable, but no longer seem like a good idea. Who was I when I did think it was a good idea? Someone else, apparently.

But I suspect that those resurrections will be fewer and farther between as I age, and that, frankly, scares me to death. No one in my family seems to live long enough to get dementia or Alzheimer’s, but I can’t think of a more terrifying way to go. It would be like constantly mourning the death of something you can no longer recall.

Here’s a random thought. Some friends of mine like to take the “ugh” out of thought and spell it “thot”. It makes perfect sense to me. And it makes me wonder if a thought without the “ugh” becomes a much better, more positive thought.

I sometimes imagine that if all my lost ideas could somehow be consolidated into one big thoughtful mass, they would create another whole person. I have no idea who that person would be, but I suspect she’d have quite a lot to say.


This is a photo I took in the historic cemetery of a Unitarian Universalist Church in Charleston, South Carolina.

Getting Older

Today is my 49th birthday. Happy birthday to me. Given that the average life expectancy of the white American female these days is 81 years, I am definitely on the downhill slope. And it’s a rare woman in my family who makes it that far, so I could very well be further down the slope than statistics suggest. Who knows? And that’s a very strange place to be, believe me.

So let me describe the landscape for those young people who haven’t crested that peak yet, and therefore have no idea what’s on the other side.

  • I have aches and pains that will never go away. Ever. Don’t do stupid stuff that will hurt your body. It adds up.
  • I have discovered that the quality of my friendships have only gotten better over the years. Nothing like the passage of time to tell you who your friends really are.
  • With each passing day, I care less and less about what people think of me, and you’ve never experienced true liberation until you know what that’s like.
  • I know myself. What a gift.
  • Looking in the mirror is more of a shock each day. In my head I still look like I did when I was 19, despite the constant contradiction of my reflection.
  • I’m tired all the time. I mean, all the time.
  • No matter how old you get, there will always be someone older who will laugh at you for feeling old.
  • I haven’t stopped learning, and I love that.
  • The older you get, the more people you will lose, so if you’re smart you’ll try really hard to let the people you love know how much you appreciate them every chance you get.
  • When I was young I always assumed that eventually I’d reach a place where I’d be established, and where there’d be no more need for emotional growth. Wrong.
  • I honestly don’t think I’ve become more forgetful. I’ve always been forgetful. It’s just that now I have a valid excuse.
  • I still get pimples. Anyone who tells you that you grow out of that is lying.
  • I’ve discovered that the best things you can do for yourself in the long term are stretch, floss your teeth, and don’t pass up any opportunity to have sex. Forget about eat, pray, love. It’s sex, stretch, floss.
  • For God’s sake, don’t smoke. The older you will pay a hefty price.
  • It’s really important to listen to your inner voice. If you don’t, you’ll usually regret it.
  • The more that happens to you, good or bad, the more perspective you will gain over what’s really important.
  • The older you get, the more society will put restrictions on what they deem to be acceptable behavior for you. So make an extra effort to be outlandish as you get older. Anyone with an open mind will find it charming. The rest of them aren’t worth your time.