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Twitter (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Describe yourself … in 160 characters or less.

Really? she said. Or thought. Yes, I definitely thought that.

So guess who decided to go out and actually activate her Twitter Account this afternoon?

And since the name and whatnot was already there, I was left with the “bio”. Well. Time to go out and Follow a few other people that make me laugh and that I admire. Sometimes simultaneously.

The location was easy enough … Shallow End Of Gene Pool, USA.

But back to the bio.

I was going to say “depressed optimist” but somehow I didn’t think that would come across quite as lighthearted as I intended.

And I was pretty sure “Past totally broken-hearted baby boomer and not into another relationship yet, thanks. Here’s my number …” was a little more than they were looking for. More than I wanted to put out there at least.

“Writer, but I don’t get paid for it” was pretty accurate, but would be like so many of us out here.

I looked at other people’s “bio” descriptions. Witty. Fun. Creative. Original.

Now I was really depressed.

Then I remembered the All About Holly page that I had composed for the blog site here. For those of you who may not have seen it, it goes something like this:

Picture a little girl … with curly, curly dark brown hair … crossed eyes … flat chested … and tender-hearted.

Add three parts life. Corporate. Marital. Children.
Add two parts time.
Subtract two and a half parts life. No Corporate. No Marital. Children … but at a distance.
Add three more parts time.
Add and subtract at will several parts life, death, joy, sadness, love, heartbreak … and weight …

And you are left with me.

Life seasoned.

When I speak to groups and share my life story, it usually includes great amounts of laughter. And several instances of mouths gaping wide open. Seems there is more to me than meets the eye.

Curly grey … or dyed … hair now. Not so cross-eyed. Not remotely flat chested.

Hard on the outside. Still tender-hearted on the inside.

And somehow the eternal wearer of rose-colored glasses.

Rose colored glasses?

Too Pollyanna-ish? Or accurately Holly-ish?

Despite all the woes and tragedies and challenges and whatnot of my life, I have come through it … not unscathed, certainly … but with a certain resilience. A deep unshakeable belief that just around the corner there will be something good.

I’m not quite sure where that comes from.

Maybe my ability to see humor in the ironies of life … and to laugh at and enjoy life as it comes along.

Years ago, standing in the back of a meeting room shortly after my divorce, I watched as a friend addressed a few hundred people.

Right in the middle, he stopped … pointed at me … and said “And if I had gone through what that woman has just gone through, I’d just stick my head in the oven and turn on the gas”.

Yeah, well.

Gave a whole new meaning to “There but for the Grace of God” for the attendees, I guess.

But I’m still here. Twenty-five plus years after that lecture. Feeling pretty optimistic about my sixties which loom ahead of me.

And about new beginnings. And about endless possibilities. And about the healing properties of laughter.

Despite harsh realities.

So this is what I wrote.

Single Sexegenarian. Hard on the outside. Tender-hearted on the inside. And somehow still the eternal wearer of rose colored glasses and lover of laughter.

With five characters left over.

It will do for now. Maybe tomorrow I’ll come up with something better.

All suggestions are welcome.

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