I have to confess that what I’m about to do feels very weird indeed. I haven’t written in a diary since I was a love-sick teenager, age 13. It was the summer that my first boyfriend Joey dumped me for my best friend, Joanie. Perhaps the alliterative sound of Joey and Joanie was more to his liking than Joey and Susan. All he had to do was ask. I would have changed my name. But that’s a story for another day.
The reason for affectionately addressing a blank piece of paper today is a far cry from that heart-breaking summer of my youth. As you might remember from my last blog post, my honey and I are embarking on our very first cruise. (if you didn’t read it, that’s OK. But remember, I know who you are!)
Honestly, did I really need another reminder that I was old?
I thought I paid my dues this year with a few more wrinkles, deeper frown lines, a couple of extra sun spots, and a pair of eyeglasses that I was now required to use when driving. Oh, and the addition to my never-again list of a few more foods which now give me indigestion.
So, did I have to suffer yet another indignity of aging, in front of a complete stranger, no less?
No, I didn’t lose bladder control. I lost my fingerprints!
Let me explain how this came to light.
My husband and I had applied for the Global Entry pass that is supposed to make air travel a little easier. If you have this card, you can bypass the lines at security and immigration by checking yourself in or out using a special kiosk. Whether this method is preferable to being escorted in a wheelchair remains to be seen.