  I was in American Apparel (great company--everything made in LA, I think, and no sweatshop labor--employees treated very well--everyone should shop here) with Stella. I was trying on skirts. I found one that Kim Gordon would have worn on stage. It was a mini, ended about four inches above my knees, and was basically a series of ruffles: brown, then sky blue, then orange. It was fantastic, the kind of thing I would have snapped up in my twenties or even in my thirties, before I had children and didn't have to bend over a lot and/or climb playground equipment. I tried it on and I loved it even more. Just to be funny, I held up the skirt and asked two strangers the following: "I'm going to be 40 this year. Do you think I'm too old for this skirt? " The strangers were two women, shopping together, picking out very drab items, I noticed later. The oldest barely regarded the skirt, said to me, "Everyone's too old for that skirt. " I was a little crestfallen.
I shouldn't have asked. I was just trying to be funny. Neither of them laughed. Can't a gal make corny age jokes anymore? Speaking of age, I told Peter at Ciao for Now yesterday about my sudden realization that when he told me he was 22 the other week that it was the first time I felt really, really old, closer to death and all that. He nodded sympathetically, got me Stella's mini-cupcake, my tofu dog in a croissant blanket. I feel like he gets a lot of people confessing things to him.
Sometimes I think I should just shut the hell up. I'm in the middle of a big job right now, writing a heinous standardized test for 2nd graders for the state of Texas. I get to be creative, but I can't write about vegetarianism or riding your bike to the store instead having your mom drive you. Bastards. 
