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When you seize the wrong day. Or month. March has been a wench this year. Actually, every year, but I’ve normally found a way to screw her. Or him. Spring break is a thing in this part of the country, because we know when we should be uncarping. Yes, that’s also Latin. I’ve spoken many times about how I hate the color of March. Is bland even a color? But, for the last few years I’ve found a way to leave it behind and find a better, brighter, warmer color. Hey, if bland is a color then warmer should be one, too. Circumstances kept me home this year, but not really. I just made a bad choice. Mala sententia. But wow look at me speaking more Latin. Now that the month is winding down I’m reminded that I forgot (huh?) that March sucks and makes me cranky. As if I needed help. Lesson learned. I was so excited about my Boomlennial hall pass that I thought this would work out somehow but it didn’t. I will be gone in April, however. That beautiful, flower blooming, sun shining month. And then I’ll lament that I’m missing all that gloriouness. Or not. April showers do bring May flowers. Or pilgrims. Or some such silliness. See what happens in bland world? I shouldn’t be so nonchalant about all of this because it’s serious stuff. Next time I’ll be more chalant. Is that Latin? #needavacation #needtodetox #needtotox

Free to good, bad, or indifferent home. A few years ago before I had this amazing blogue space, I took my creative energies out on Facebook. And laughed and laughed with all my hilarious posts. Like when my puppy ate one of my outdoor lounge chair cushions. Complete with pictures. Of course, some people thought my post was serious, and wanted my dog because I was such a wretched person. True, but that was tongue in cheek, whatever that means. Now that same post pops up on my memories and just makes me sad. Not about the dog, because fortunately after destroying and eating lots of cushions and beds, he became a great pet, but more about the passage of time. I don’t like to look at old pictures much, but FB just keeps sending me those memories at times when I’m just not in the mood for the recap. Which is most of the time. I focus on today, tomorrow, but not tomorrow tomorrow. That’s just too much looking ahead and when you have that esteemed Boomlennial status, today works just fine. Or tomorrow if you’re out of coffee and/or wine, depending how the night went. Those bookends can come with their own perils. Of course there is joy and rumpus on both ends, but somehow that’s not usually what’s front and center at 3am. Today is the day the Lord hath made, let us rejoice and be glad in it. Even though I gave up on the autotune of religion, those early Sunday school lines still stick with me. I was a good student and if I knew I was getting a gold star for memorizing something, I did. Anyway, I’m just throwing it out there for my millions of followers to think about. Enough said.

If you ever want to laugh uncontrollably (who doesn’t), listen to this song by Weird Al. It got me. My wee dear one sang it to me not so long ago (not so wee, but plenty dear) and I was wrecked. In a good way. I could not stop laughing, and it’s been awhile since I’ve done that. At least I wasn’t in church. Which is why I quit going. Sit quietly and don’t laugh? Not on my watch. Anyway, the song is great, the lifestyle is not. How (why?) anyone chooses to live like that is beyond me. I don’t judge (of course I do) but just seems like a lot of extra work. And misery. Ok, I’m soft. And brilliant. First my freezer took a dump. Can deal with that. Bought a bag of ice that could live on the deck since the temps have been nipple curling. Then cooked up what was left in the freezer, which wasn’t much. Did find an unopened box of Thin Mints which almost made the demise worth it. I’m not on my game, though, if I left them in there for almost a year. Filled the fridge with a bunch of stuff I knew I’d probably not eat, but felt like a pioneer. And then. And then. A couple days later the fridge started feeling a bit warmer then usual. Still telling myself I’m imaging the curdled milk and warm cheese. Made a great recipe with the cottage cheese and blueberries, however. Keeping a good attitude. Then the ice storm. Besides being housebound with a frozen driveway and porch, the tv satellite dish froze up!?&$! NO TV WTF??????? I can put up with a lot. Go with the flow. Forgive and forget(ish). But I need my TVVVVVVVV! What are the Amish doing??? Not watching the Super Bowl I imagine. A day and a half. A long, ugly day and a half. It is hard to be this shallow, but I admit I neeeeeeed my MTV. And the news. And sports. All of it. Finally came up with a plan. Huge pole with a mop head and many many many buckets of hot water. Did I mention it was cold and icy? That day aged me. Almost as bad as the bats in the house. But at least I could sweat those out in the summer. I won’t even mention the crockpot that jumped off High and decided to cook my ribs all day on Warm. Nope, not going to mention it. Just living in an Amish paradise. If they are building points for the afterlife, I want some. “I really hate to trip, but I gotta loc As they croak, I see myself in the pistol smoke Fool, I’m the kinda G the little homies wanna be like On my knees in the night, sayin prayers in the streetlight. Livin in a gangsta paradise. #choosingsides
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Now that I’ve said it OUT LOUD, and Facebook has announced it to the rest of my millions of followers, I’m kind of digging it. No joke. It started with the dreaded letter to report for jury duty. I’ve done my time. Been called up many many many times, and sat on a three day trial. Should be getting some kind of presidential award for that. I know it’s rigged and I’m done playing their sinister games. My first response was to throw the letter in the trash. Come get me. I’m still fast and wiley. But then I thought hmmmm. I’m a senior citizen (hate that phrase), it’s cold and snowy, and I don’t want to go out amongst people because of my poor health. None of which is true, except the cold and snowy. Very cold. Very snowy. So sent a one sentence email (you read it here first folks). And wouldn’t you know it, I got an immediate response saying I was excused. Just like that. Oh the joys of being a fabulous Boomlennial. Since then, I’ve enjoyed a discounted movie, great seat at an exclusive restaurant for that big ole milestone, and kind of rejoiced in the fact that I am one of those marginalized groups that you can’t mess with. I have a built in excuse for what ails me. Which is the best part. NOTHING. NOTHING ails me. Feeling good, looking amazing, and keeping my sense of humor. Don’t need to wear high heels ever again. Is anyone really looking at my feet?? I know people who pride themselves on still wearing those for women only shoes. Men had a brief try in the seventies with platforms, but even they realized the insanity of that. How do you run from a bear? They are embracing tennis shoes now, which I think look pretty stupid with a suit, but comfortable they are. My super power is still knowing what the weather is and my weight 24/7. Truth. You may quiz me on the weather, but my weight is going to die with me. Unless I get real skinny during that process and then I’ll shout it. PARTLY CLOUDY WITH A 20% CHANCE OF RAIN AND 110 POUNDS. Before lunch. I don’t have to say ‘in my day’ because TODAY is my day!! And I bet tomorrow will be, too. I need to start a Boomlennial support group to pat each other on the back (gently), and announce to the world that we are living our best life. And NEVER have to report for jury duty again. Did I say I’m grateful for the SMALL STUFF……

Now that The Holidays are behind(ish) me, I have time to relax and reflect on how they went down. I usually relish this post time of year, but kind of having a long goodbye kiss now. Maybe because it has been cold and snowy, it just seems like I want to keep them keeping on. Or probably more honestly, it’s because I wasn’t ‘in charge’ of anything. I just showed up looking like a million dollars (yes, tongue in cheek), with the appropriate presents, and probably a better attitude. For some reason this year, I didn’t feel like The Holidays were something I had to get through to get back to real life. Shopping online surely helped my mood. And that was mostly for me. Who deserves it more she asks? I ate an appropriate amount of snacks. (My appropriate, don’t judge). And just kind of went with the flow. Looked forward to the next ‘to do’ with cute clothes and a nice purse. My priorities have always been a bit (?) shallow. Or have they? Maybe just knowing what gives me the most feel good hormones has kept that smile on my face. When I was hosting Christmas, it was a tremendous chore. In real life, I don’t like to cook or clean or entertain for that matter, but somehow all my worst chores meant Christmas. Except for the toilet. I didn’t clean that on the big day. If anyone cared they were too weird to be my family or friend. Now I go elsewhere for the big day(s), and that suits me so much better. I didn’t know how cool it was to come home to a clean house and just plug that beautiful tree in, and move that coffee cup to the sink. Aaaahhhh. Who knew? I’ve subtly passed the experience on, and that works for everyone. The times they are a changin, and I’m cool with that. I’m like those dogs that are meant to sit on the Queens lap. Or a lizard sunning on a hot rock. Don’t overdo me. I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ve just been understaffed. Now that I’m appropriately staffed, as in me, I get myself gorgeous and that’s about it. Deck those halls and buy me some figgy pudding. Let it snow, snow, snow.

Go ahead. I know Madonna is in your head and you are just bopping along…touched for the very first time hum hum. Okay, enough. Focus. A Sturgeon is one of those old old fish that are still around because they’ve adapted. Rivers, oceans, freshwater, salt, caviar. Take my eggs and I still find a way to carry on. Much like the Boomlennial, we’ve seen many changes over the years, and have had to embrace them even if we were at first skeptical. Who didn’t struggle with those first computers? I still miss my Blackberry, probably because the learning curve was so long and hard. The IPhone seemed like a joke. There are no keys or letters!?!#! Of course, I had to move on, but I must say my muscle memory still longs for those little nubs. I’ve never been as proficient with the IPhone, probably because that Blackberry was my soulmate. First loves and all that. Now I’m having an odd affair with the Google, and just can’t stop jumping his bones. Geesh I miss when innocence was bliss and I didn’t need to know everything. Everything. One of my wee ones told me I need to get out of my comfort zone. After the surprise of him knowing that phrase, I figured he was probably right. But, was he??? I love my comfort zone! Don’t I deserve that yet?? I did a bit of backpedaling through my life, and realized I lived much of it OUT of my comfort zone. I’ve traveled, I’ve experienced, I’ve met, I’ve engaged, I’ve raised, I’ve participated, I’ve loved, I’ve pained, I’ve done most of the verbs. Enough already. Think a bit of comfort is in order. In whatever zone calls me. If life is about balance, I’ve tipped the scales wayyyy to one side. Speaking of scales, digital is way too unforgiving. I digress. At some point #now I really need to come to terms with my comfort zone and build a moat around it. With sturgeons. Let in whom and what I want. Applause applause. #thesnuggleisreal

Oops! Sorry. Bad punctuation. I’m giving up. Drinking till Christmas. The holiday creep has started two days into fall. I don’t dislike The Holidays. In fact, I think if we didn’t have something to shuffle the days around, the calendars would never be turned over. Do people still use physical calendars? I have mine hanging in the kitchen, and still try to keep tabs on my oh-so-busy life from it. I make a big production of moving it to a new month. Usually, I drop the little hanging nail on the floor and scramble around trying to find it before the dog does. Then after I rehang it, I’m curious about my past life, and want to know when I last got my roots done, teeth and hair. So off it comes again, yep, with the dropping of the nail. Traditions. Anyyyywayyy. The Holidays. Halloween is in full swing around town with bigger and better decorations. I’ve already been invited for Thanksgiving and my hosts turkey(s) have been ordered. Maybe because I’m a slacker #lazy all this just seems a bit too much. Creep creep. Give me some colorful leaves, a nice fire, and a losing football team and I can enjoy the fall. The losing football team is just a part of it. Probably if they actually were winning, the excitement would be too much for me. I’ve settled into enjoying the mediocrity. Did I mention traditions? Not everyone has to share the same ones. I’m starting the traditional Christmas shopping. For me. Who deserves it more? I just made apple crisp. For me. Again. Maybe The Holidays are just a bit too much sharry sharry. Not on my watch. This Boomlennial has to hold her own. And doesn’t like to be told when, what, how, whatever. I know I’ll coast into the festivities at some point, but until then I’ll just eat the ice cream that was meant for the apple crisp, decided it was too healthy, and do me. Sigh.

I am the voice of our Boomlennial generation. Or so I say. I like to control the narrative, and my millions of followers seem to be okay with that. We are not the baby boomers yapping on about bucket lists and happy places. Boomlennials have it together, and don’t need anyone to tell them how to behave. But oh darn. I’m starting to feel some strange air across my neck. It started slowly. I don’t want an Apple Watch. I know when I’m breathing and not sleeping. Yes, I eat too much cheese and use too little sunscreen, but I don’t need a vitamin D supplement. So many of my peeps have taken dry January to a whole new level. Just because they want to. Huh? Guess it’s a thing. When I was told that you don’t have to use the largest setting on the Keurig machine, I was baffled. Who knew those three buttons were different sizes? Sadly, everyone. None of these things are major affronts, but they seem to be adding up to not being as cool as I thought. And I think I am chill beyond measure. Until…..the teenage neighbor and his friends were in my pool and hot tub at one in the morning on Labor Day. First, I turned the outside light on. Waited. Did they think I was helping them see the slide. Didn’t leave. Then…..I actually let my dog out. I mean he really really really had to go. Really. He is gentle, but his bark is not. They bolted. And I went out and puffed around the yard like I made some major conquest. They shouted some F-you obscenities at me, which made me smile. At the time. Now……maybe I overreacted. The dog??? True that I didn’t want kids in the pool that may or may not have been having too much holiday celebration. But still. Might try a different tactic next time. Like calling the police. Kidddding! It is a slippery slope I fear I’m sliding down, though. I know I’m never going to be a Disney princess, but Evil Queen is now within my grasp. Not very Boomlennial of me humph. Then, my beloved football team is talking about building a new stadium. Everyone is a twitter about whether it should be a dome, and where should it be located. My first thought was who says ‘a twitter’. My second thought was I’ll probably not be around to enjoy it anyway so what do I care? I care!! I care a lot and I want to still care. About everything! I need to hit that Boomlennial reset button and keep on keeping on, man. Now how cool is that? Ugh.

The heat of this summer has me thinking about purses. Why wouldn’t it? I’ve always worked at having the best seasonal purse, and yes fall can be tricky. But I get there. Hello, Burberry plaid! This summer, however, has left me in a quandary. Just wasn’t feeling or seeing the right bag. I managed the small clutch for after hours, but hand cream and face grease sucker uppers weren’t going there. Fortunately, my closet is one big back up plan. Or so I thought! I’ve evolved. (Maybe not so much this blogue. Still very, very deep). The leather fringed bag with the turquoise clasp that was a major find in Montana a few years ago now looks like it died on the shelf. And did I really love it as much as I remember. Yes!! I did! Where did that cowgirl, flower child go? I really liked her. It’s just weird when a purse can tell your story better than the happenings of today. As I continued on through the closet, it was rather trippy. There’s the business bag, there’s the straw from vacay, the bag I got after a big check and needed to splurge, the I’m so depressed from gaining a few pounds I’m never buying clothes again. A real cornucopia of life. And since I did take my purse buying way too seriously, it did tell my story. Who needs a fascinating blogue? Me! Me! I need it all! No one else is keeping track of my quick flight through this world. The lowly lipstick and Kleenex carrier has an awesome responsibility. Which makes me realize I need to get shopping and ponder the essence of this summer. There must be a purse out there feeling my vibe. Very very important stuff here. Q. Why did the purse go to therapy? A. It had too many issues to carry around. LV I’m coming!!!

That’s what I saw when I logged on to blogue today. Just wow. I know I’m endlessly fascinating. I know nothing makes me laugh harder than my own words. But….does Emir in Istanbul enjoy it as much as my millions of American followers?? Probably. Who wouldn’t? I guess I just never thought so globally. My bad. I’ll try to include you from now on. Now where was I??? Vacation. Yes, that’s where my thoughts originally started before I was reminded of my world outreach. (Hey. If I don’t pat myself on the back, okay upper shoulder, who will?). Boomlennials need to do more self flagellation because no one is going to take on that job. As some of us start to age out of life (no one that is reading this blogue!!!!) it has become apparent to me that sometimes older people (not us) are seen as less important than younger people. I think it starts with your offspring, because they can get away with it. (I still try to be nice to them), but it moves on to many professionals that you deal with from doctors, to bankers, to grocery store clerks monitoring the self checkout. Very, very professional. I just often feel a dismissive attitude from them. I could be the Queen (I am) but I feel a disrespect or a patronizing attitude. Ok, back to vacation. Kind of. A younger, drunker woman sat next to me at a bar on the beach. I wasn’t striking up conversation with her, but she interrupted my chat with my companion to tell me how cute my outfit was. From top to flip flops. It was, but that wasn’t her intent. She was patting herself on the lower shoulder because she had done a good deed for the day, making the Boomlennial feel like she looked presentable. Actually, I might have even done it myself sometimes when I think someone could use a little boost. I am quite the worldwide humanitarian, you know. Probably that’s why I recognized the back handed compliment. Vacation. What happened to me talking about it?? It was great! It was hot! It was a nice getaway from normal life. You can come as you are, but you will not leave as you are. There.