I just had to share this One!

Stranger In My Mirror

By Rose Madeline Mula

Please be careful. This person has found her way into my house and could also get into yours.

A very weird thing has happened. A strange old lady has moved into my house. I have no idea who she is, where she came from, or how she got in. I certainly did not invite her.

All I know is that one day, she wasn't there and the next day, she was.

She is a clever old lady and manages to keep out of sight for the most part, but whenever I pass a mirror I catch a glimpse of her. And whenever I look in the mirror to check my appearance, there she is hogging the whole thing, completely, obliterating my gorgeous face and body. This is very rude!

I have tried screaming at her, but she just screams back.

The least she could do is offer to pay part of the rent, but no.

Every once in a while, I find a dollar bill stuck in a coat pocket or some loose change under a sofa cushion, but it is not nearly enough. I don't want to jump to conclusions, but I think she is stealing money from me. I go to the ATM and withdraw $100 and a few days later, it's all gone!

I certainly don't spend money THAT fast, so I can only conclude the old lady is pilfering from me. You'd think she would spend some of that money to buy wrinkle cream.

And money isn't the only thing I think she is stealing. Food seems to disappear at an alarming rate-especially the good stuff like ice cream, cookies and candy. She must have a real sweet tooth, but she'd better watch it, because she is really packing on the pounds.

I suspect she realizes this, and to make herself feel better, she is tampering with my scale to make me think I am putting on weight too.

For an old lady, she is quite childish. She likes to play nasty games, like going into my closets when I'm not home and altering my clothes so they don't fit.

And she messes with files and papers so I can't find anything. This is particularly annoying since I am extremely neat and organized.

She has found other imaginative ways to annoy me. She gets into my mail, newspapers and magazines before I do and blurs the print so I can't read it.
And she has done something really sinister to the volume controls on my TV, radio and telephone. Now, all I hear are mumbles and whispers.

She has done other things - like make my stairs steeper, my vacuum heavier and all the knobs and faucets harder to turn. She even made my bed higher so that getting into and out of it is a real challenge.

Lately, she has been fooling with my groceries before I put them away, applying glue to the lids, making it almost impossible for me to open the jars.

She has taken the fun out of shopping for clothes. When I try something on, she stands in front of the dressing room mirror and monopolizes it. She looks totally ridiculous in some of those outfits, plus she keeps me from seeing how great they look on me. Just when I thought she couldn't get any meaner, she proved me wrong.

She came along when I went to get my picture taken for my driver's license and just as the camera shutter clicked, she jumped in front of me.

I hope she never finds out where you live.

I really do!

Thoughts on Getting Older

What follows is a short article written by an anonymous person. However, it contains some great insights into how one person felt about the process of getting older. I hope you can relate. I know I can.

I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly. As I've aged, I've become kinder to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend.. I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn't need, but looks so avante garde on my patio. I am entitled to a treat, to be messy, to be extravagant.

I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.

Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 a.m. and sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60 &70's, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love ... I will.
I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set.

They, too, will get old.

I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten. And I eventually remember the important things.

Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebody's beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.

I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face.
So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver.

As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don't question myself anymore..

I've even earned the right to be wrong.

So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day (if I feel like it).