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Over at Adam Phillip's Yahoo group, I made a comment about how I felt a bit dirty for having sexual thoughts about Taylor Lautner, because he's all of 18 and that feels wrong to me somehow. Adam said that there's absolutely nothing wrong with having those kinds of thoughts about a young dude, because it's not actually a child I'm lusting over- it's a young man who's in terrific shape, and I shouldn't feel like there's anything about having salacious thoughts about the guy just because he's a good deal younger than I am. And he's got a point, and I was wondering why it had been bothering me so much whenever I looked at an 18-year old guy, thought he was hot, and then felt, "God, you are such a dirty old man, Jeremy!" And I came to this conclusion- it's weird for me, because 18-year olds remind me that I'm no spring chicken anymore, and it makes me question if I'm reacting that way to them because I want to re-live my youth. It used to be that I could look at a cute 18-year old boy, and think, "Maybe I should ask him out", because at the time, I was 18 or 19 years old, and I was age-appropriate. Nowaways, as I'm moving in my mid-20's, I generally find that most of the guys that I'm really attracted to are in their early 20's or mid-20's, because most 19-year old boys look just like that to me- boys, not men. But occasionally, such as in the case of Taylor Lautner, I just think, "Wow, he's really hot and gorgeous!", and then there comes that, "Oh wait, I shouldn't hit on the dude, because I'm way too freaking old for him." It's strange how life moves so fast- one day I was in high school homeroom talking about the merits of the O.C., and now I'm facing the end of college and I'm no longer really and truly young anymore. My youth is almost behind me, and it's a disconcerting thought. Am I mourning my youth? I guess I am, but in another way, I'm really not. I loved certain aspects of my youth- I loved driving around with friends late at night while we searched for post-drinking food, I loved the wild excitement of going to the first college parties with a set of eyes full of innocent, wide-eyed wonder at all these new experiences, and I loved the quiet, heart-to-heart moments I had with friends as we searched our way through post-adolescence. I have all these memories, and I lived through it, and those memories can't be taken away from me. I don't know if it's really that I would go back and re-live my youth...I guess it's just...I don't know what it'll be like to finally be out of that stage of my life. I've prolonged my days of college youth much longer than I should have. Now that it's finally here- the end is finally here- I'm hestitating before I make that finally plunge into that other stage of life- adulthood. My friend Steve has been getting on me about how I need to stop being so obsessed with youth- and he's right about that. I think it's just that I've seen my youth as being the one and only thing I've ever had going for me...that now that it's gone, I don't know what I have anymore. But I think I can find it. I hope I can find it. What I do know for sure is that I can't just wallow around and mourn my lost youth- because no amount of that is going to bring it back. And to be honest, I'm not really sure I want to go back to my youth again, either. What I do need is to just become more comfortable within a new role that's developing for me as I leave my youth behind. I just hope I get there. I know I'll get there.

Dear Alzheimer’s, You’re just a dirty sneak thief. You sneak in and steal from people. You don’t even have the courage to announce yourself. Your nasty cousin, cancer, at least starts with a cough or a pain. But not you, oh no. You waltzed in, and started taking things. Little things. Things you didn’t think would be noticed; like where the car keys had gone, or the reading glasses. “Everybody remember where we parked!” became a family joke. You started taking bigger things. Like conversation. Gone were the days when we talked about so many things over coffee. Now there were questions asked, and answered, and asked again. Trains of thought, derailed before they even left the station. But now, everyone notices. Stolen glances behind backs, eyes rolling like teenagers at hearing the question, again. And, occasionally, “Oh wait, I asked that already, didn’t I?” "You know, I'm just not worth a damn some days." She knows now, that something is missing. But you’re sneaky, she’s not quite sure what’s going on. And while this is cruel, what is worse is that the past is now crystal clear. Phone calls and emails to grandchildren to apologize for things that happened 13 years ago. Knowing for certain, with absolute clarity, what she wore to that Halloween party 40 years ago. You’re getting bolder now. Walking, moving, becomes difficult. You’ve stolen our walks. When we would wander the neighborhood, the park, even the mall. The shuffling gait leads to trips, trips to falls, falls to fear, and fear, to inaction. We ask, “What’s next?” There’s a caregiver now. You’ve taken her ability to feed herself, and care for herself. She’s like a small child again needing help with daily activities like brushing her teeth, and even going to the bathroom. Unmarked boxes, full of “incontinence supplies” start showing up with the mail. Like a small child, she lashes out in anger, and frustration. She knows things are missing. If that wasn’t enough, you’ve taken her spirit, the very thing that made her, who she is, or was. She lays on the bed, not knowing anyone, or anything. There isn’t even any fighting. We know she’s gone, only her body doesn’t realize it yet. We mourn, but we can’t fully, as we try to care for what you’ve left behind. You’ve taken so much. Will you ever be satisfied? Sincerely, molly We all have fears. When i was a teen, and into my early twenties i lived in a part of the US that has high rates for MS, Multiple Sclerosis. It was my boogeyman. Now, three people i know, two of which i went to high school with, are battling it. It doesn’t frighten me anymore. The area i grew up in has been labeled a “cancer cluster." Talking with classmates from high school, we’re losing parents and each other to cancer and other chronic illnesses. i deal with this daily, it’s no longer a fear. But Alzheimer’s. That’s fecking scary. My Grandmother had it; her sister had it; my mother has it; my sister's mother in law has it. My aunt lost her husband to it last year. We’d been saying goodbye to him for three or four years Losing ME, that’s scary. So scary that it can make me cry. This month in the US starts a series of "Walk to End Alzheimer's" events. You'll see commercials for it, hear stories on the news programs, they'll say that "the first survivor of Alzheimer's is out there." If you are so inclined, get a team together, volunteer at one of the events, or find a way to sponsor someone who's walking. For more information on the Walks check here As always, my thanks to tim, @Mikiesboy, for helping me find the courage to do this in the first place xoxo And tonight, to AC, @AC Benus, thank you for looking at this for me xoxo