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Doctor, my eyes…

Posted on September 24, 2009 by laineyd

“People go just where they will

I never noticed them until I got this feeling

that it’s later than it seems”

So, I am generally – and by generally, I mean since I was 12 years old – a fan of Don Henley. However, lately – and by lately, I mean in the last few years – I have found some meaning in some of Jackson Browne’s stuff. Today the iPod spat out Doctor My Eyes and the above line made me think. First, I love the line “People go just where they will” because it’s true. I don’t give advice in most situations because, why bother? People are going to do what they are going to do. You can tell someone,”Hey maybe you should wait to do that” but why? People go just where they will.

And there’s the rest – “I never noticed them until I got this feeling that it’s later than it seems,” which I like because it is later than it seems. I may feel like I’m still 19 years old (and clearly I do – it is such a 19 year old thing to listen to music so closely) but I’m not 19. I’m 32. Too old to audition for American Idol (which is fine, as we all know I can’t sing), too old to be Miss America (to say nothing of too married to be Miss America), too old to be a hoochie girl dancing in a rock video (unless it’s a Weird Al parody of a Robert Palmer song, where, instead of airbrushed models backing him up, he has a lineup of shimmying water buffalo dressed in their finest Lands End t-shirts and khakis).

(That may be the greatest idea for a music video, ever).

Anyway, the years are passing. All of a sudden, the singers on the radio are younger than I am, the managers at work are younger, and even people younger than me are all of a sudden having kids. (And you thought I wouldn’t bring up babies – don’t you know whose blog you are reading?). Am I already too old for that, too?

“Doctor my eyes,

Tell me what you see

I hear their cries

Just say if it’s too late for me”

Next Tuesday we have a followup test from our July medical adventure and the informational session with the reproductive endocrinologist’s office. The main piece of information I hope to pick up is “Can we afford this?” I suspect the answer will be “Bitch, please!” (Or perhaps, “How do you feel about giving yourself a shot in the ass?”)

(Or maybe the followup test will come back super good, I’ll do another round or two of Clomid and I will end up pregnant and you all can stop listening to me whine about this).

(Yikes, who let Pollyanna weigh in on this?).

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