It's recently come to my attention that I appear to be the oldest living romance blogger on the face of the earth.
I just assumed that some of the "crew" were in the "40-something" range with me. Then I realized the "old guard" was actually in the 30-something range. And the "young guard" was in the 20-something range. And there were even youngsters who are only slightly older than my own children. There are some bloggers who were NOT EVEN BORN YET while I was wearing shoulder pads and dancing to Janet Jackson songs in high school.
I know that some of my friends ("contemporaries," if you will) consider my obsession with romantic fiction to be unsavory. Unbecoming of a woman of my age and station in life. They can't understand how an ivy league-educated scientist ended up reading romance novels and listening to Britney.
Well, either can I. Sometimes I feel my age when the young whipper-snapper bloggers are all chatting on twitter with their abbreviations that I totally don't understand. Many of them are still in school, still care about fashion accessories, and get the whole "Twilight" thing. I know I am sadly out of touch with this generation, but I refuse to go down without a fight.
I might not be the youngest, or the hippest (or even close to the hippest) romance blogger on the block, but at least I can still read! My eyes are showing some signs of fatigue, but they're still in working order.
Just so you know, I don't actually look like this.....
I actually look like this....
(I know, there's an actress who bears an uncanny likeness to me. Or so I've been told).
My point, after this rambling post, is that it doesn't really matter if you're young or old or look like Kate Beckinsale.
Reading romance will keep you young at heart. Forever.
(Especially if you're a vampire and you're immortal.)
With a spring in my step, and bifocals on the end of my nose,
Penelope
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