Calling All Cardigans

There is the saying that looks can be decieving and I am here to say that infact they are. I am going to use the example of myself for this blog. Now if I were not terrified of rapists, internet stalkers and other forms of scary bad men I would put a picture of myself to help with my point in this blog. So picture a blonde 21 year old girl. ( I guess I could gloat and tell you how gorgeous and tall and lean I am with a good figure and striking features with thick full hair and smokey grey eyes with totally kissable lips, but I am not looking for that kind of publicicty at the moment. Hence another reason that my picture is not up on any of my blogs) Back to the issue at hand, the other night I was out with my man freind playing a rousing game of Dominoes with his forty year old brother and sister. My man friend is 27 and like I said I am 21. (I'm thinking we need to be on a pop culture team because we span 20 years of great entertainment history) So this game of Dominoes was the true virsion not the Mexican Chicken foot way that I believe was invented to turn possible adoring Dominoes fans against the game. Around the fourth round of team Harold against the Oldies I relized that I am a grandma trapped in a 1986'rs body! I mean here I am sitting in my designer jeans and shoes playing Dominoes and I realize that this is all wrong! With the way I enjoy things like Dominoes, Bingo, Prune Juice, Knitting, Water Aerobics, Sunday Specials at IHOP, Watching the Golden Girls, Lazy Boy Recliners, Reading the Obituaries, Orange Lipstick, AMC Television, Walking Up Hill Both Ways from School, Bridge, Watching the Price is Right, Rice Pudding, and other such activities, I am wearign the wrong clothes! My Nine West pumps need to be traded in for orthopedic penny loafers, Juicy Couture jeans to become highwaist elastic pants, and my Michael Starrs top for you guessed it a cardigan sweater. I must say that I am not ashamed of my identity crisis. In fact realizing you may be 80 is quite the relief! I know longer have to worry about choosing the wrong man to spend the rest of my life with because whom ever I choose should be pushing up daisies fairly soon. Also I am old enough to legally be "ok" being a little bit crazy. Everyone expects old people to have lost their lid and say outlandish things, like telling teenage girls exactly how you feel about there "floosie ways of dressing". Now the question falls of, " How do I make my outer appearance match that of my soul?" The clothes I suppose is a good start but not near good enough. I will have to bask in the bulbs of tanning bed heaven for that perfect leather skin, paint my eye brows on in an odd shade of blue, and get my hair washed and permed once a week. Do not be alarmed when you see me selling something on QVC, I am just accepting the fact that I am the way I am. Who knows maybe I will even change my name to Maude.