Today started off great. Slept in. Lounged around a bit. Took a shower. Polished my nails. Lounged some more, and then decided that we'd go out for a bit. My day continued to get better. I was having a *killer* hair day, and I was wearing my new fleece jacket that is simply adorble. So Tom and I went to Comp USA to browse around and pick a few things up. I will admit that I am totally lost in that store. I don't do well in computer stores. There isn't anything 'Sharon-like' in them at all. Nothing sparkley, nothing with glitter or feathers - feh. So all I do is wander around the store while Tom does his thing. It helps me get in touch with the Jewish side of my family. I wander aimlessly around for 40 minutes, looking for things to entertain me along the way. I find the most expensive computer they have and play solitaire. I press the "print a sample page" button on all the printers. Sometimes I try to pry something off it's tether and triger the alarm... But today, something awful happened. I was meandering through the Mac section (Tom *hates* Macs, so I like to wander in there to see the scowl of disapproval on his face)and I passed a woman who was about 40, with her teenage daugher. The Mac was playing the Beastie Boys song "Brass Monkey". This immediately took my back to my college days, when Roe and I would tromp around on the dance floor at a night club called Paris, New York. It was a nice memory. Then, the teenager shattered my warm fuzzy moment when she said, "What kind of a crazy song is this? Is this a real song or what?" Dear Lord. This from a girl whose generation is producing such songs with lyrics such as "Two trailer park girls go around the outside..." That's when it hit me. I am old.