Oh, That Paula Dean!

Now here is someone that is a real kick in the pants! That laughter, the love of food, the love of butter, that personality and so much more.

Lately, I've been wishing I could call her Aunt Paula, or Gramma Paula or Cousin Paula and even Paula, my mother. Or even just be my best next door neighbor, Paula! That would suffice.

If only I could be related to her somehow. Now that would just be heaven on earth! I could imagine the countless hours of time I would spend in her kitchen, watching her cook or helping her taste the end results. Or I could just be the slave that helps clean up after her. No matter, I would just love to know and love her like family.

There aren't too many folk in life that I feel that way about but Paula Dean is surely one of them!

I've been thinking about writing her a personal letter just to let her know these very things. But then I get intimidated thinking she already has a HUGE fan club of men and women who desire the very same thing as me. So, what difference would my letter make in her day?

Oh, but to day dream what she would cook or bake is just a heavenly dream.

She just cracks me up with that laughter, her easy-going spirit, that 'motherly' tendecy in her and the fact that she just gets into her cooking, but better yet tasting all that she cooks.

So, as I write this I think of how silly it is to be putting all of this in words but she's just been on my mind and I thought I'd get it all down now or never.

She is one of the quintessential cooks who make cooking more than a chore. She is up there with Julia child's and Jacque Pepin. Okay, Rachel Ray is pretty close to tops too.

Enough of my drooling and star dazing...Paula Dean is equal to Kitty of 'That 70's Show.' in terms of her laughter. Too much!

Oh, Paula Dean where art thou?

I've Become Blind...

When I think of someone getting old, I don't think of myself.

Have I gone mad? Have I gone blind?

What makes one old in the eyes of another?

When did I begin to realize that I am no longer 25?

What possessed me to remind myself of what I feel like and not what my age may give away?

When did the laugh lines begin to form down and no longer up?

Where in the world does the concept of aging gracefully come from?

Why is there is a difference of standard for aging women versus men?

Why do most women tend to age more uh, shall we say less beautiful with age?

Is this god's sense of humor toward women?

Or was it to continue to boost men's egos up until the very the end?

I sure hope my being Asian will truly be an advantage to me, and so far it has, but will I be one of the lucky ones who ages with beauty over time? Or just the opposite?

Yikes! Imagine me at 65! Hello, world here I come! Wrinkles, flab, gray haired, saggier eyelids, salt and peppered moustache between the nose and upper lip, and a triple chin.

Good thing I already had a face lift before all these things could happen to me at 40. If only I could have afforded to...

So, I guess I've become blind as the years have gone by, but I guess it's helped in the sanity department. Too much too soon would have pushed me over the edge. And not a moment too soon.

So, the secret to aging is not acknowledging it all and just imagining oneself when viewed in a mirror that 'I am the fairest of them all.'

I don't think I will be able to keep up that mantra but hey, I'm alive and that counts for something!