That was me, speaking to myself on the odd day throughout my life. Most days I lived life feeling only that I could "pass." Passing was a concept I learned from reading about people who appeared white but were black. I felt I could pass as "not ugly" on good days.
But this morning, it being my birthday, I received some photos from my past from my ex, whom I love to bits, and I was shocked because I thought I looked better than I felt, seeing my younger self with these old eyes. These must date from the early 1980s.
Today I am 68 and I am used to my old face.
Taken this morning in the garden out front of the pharmacy behind my building. Yesterday was 14°. |
The pit beside our building. A source of tremendous noise since the beginning of June. |
I met a man on the bus. He was charming. This is his address book. He is a Milliner. |
Dinner last night. Octopus at Forage Restaurant. Dessert, below, was verbena ricotta cheese and blueberries. |
My breakfast with Dwight this morning. |
1 comment:
ADORABLE!
Happy Birthday, you old fart,
b.
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