Tuesday. Super.

Hey dee ho, it's Super Tuesday. And another day of stock market turmoil. At this rate, my miniscule retirement fund will be enough to buy me a latte when I turn 75. In all this mind-boggling muddle of what the heck a delegate is, and what kind of crazy person invented this insane delegate system (gaw, probably the same ones who invented that cracked electoral college system) . . .

well, I was sort of wondering to myself about "hope" and "change" and the like. Is there an age-limit on all this hope business? I'm not even that old, but I know that I certainly don't feel quite the same about hope and change as I once did. There's a certain amount of cynicism that happens during a lifetime of big and little disappointments. Ah, Hope Floats. There is nothing in life except change. All those cliches. And yet there really is a feeling out there that we can and must do something different, better even, than what we've been slogging through. I've got pizza and a bottle of wine tonight, to watch the teevee in all it's mind numbing boring punditry and ridiculousness. I guess I've still got a little hope left . . I'm hoping that we'll have some sort of answer and not just a Punxatawny Phil moment with an announcement of several more months of the same.

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More sharing: I give myself a few minutes of shallow cyber surfing with my lunch on most days. Today I had to give up the news and politicking and go even shallower - to TMZ for news of BritBrit or some other celebrity fall from grace. What I found was their little section called "Memba Them?!" It's a photo gallery of long forgotten celebs with a little side-by-side comparison of them in their most glorious studio shots from their heyday, with a recent photo of them somewhere, obviously aged quite a bit. Most of them are in their mid-50's to 70 now, so the difference is huge. Age is not pretty when seen over and over again as you scroll through the photo gallery. Why do all those older women wear that weird burgundy or rust-colored eyeliner and eye shadow? I'm so scared to get older now. Not another year, please, while I still have my neck. And seriously, Sally Kellerman? once you're in you're 70's it's not believeable that you're still rocking those blonde long locks anymore. The whole thing is spooky scary. I almost had to watch with one eye covered as I clicked through. The wrinkles, the super red eyes, the weirdest hair and make-up ever.

I will admit, some are still looking good. Obviously women did a little better than men, what with all the hair color, make up tricks and fancy face creams. I guess I'm just reaching that age when it's all downhill now, and I'm looking forward - just to know what to expect. I was flipping the remote the other night when I hit on that new Dr. Drew celeb rehab show. I was absolutely SHOCKED to see that Brigitte Nielsen (ex-wife of Stallone and ex-lover of Flava Flav) looked like she was in her 60's. She's only in her early 40's! That's what hard living (or loving) will do to a gal, I guess. Maybe I should trade the pizza and wine tonight for brown rice and wheat grass juice instead? Oy, it hurts my head to think about it all. I'm going for vitamins.

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More sharing: while in Hawaii last week (sniff, it's already over a week now) I gave up on sunscreen and just wore long sleeves most of the time. I'm trying to save my skin now, and I know it's probably already too late. But a year ago in Mexico we all used the 30 and 45 versions (brand new bottles!) and we all got sunburns. I hate that feeling, and didn't want a minute of sunburn this time. Sis wore the sunscreens religiously and got some kind of huge rash reaction to one of them. Mom reported that she used some other kind of sunscreen (a 45) just this week in Hilo and got an unbelievable burn on her chest. No other body parts got even pink, just the part that got slathered in sunscreen. Something very fishy is going on here. I'm skeeered of sunscreens now. I'm sticking with sleeves.