Month: May 2018

While watching a recorded basketball game on TV where it is really all about me and I am featured predominantly or so I think, I had one of those come to Jesus moments.  Wait.  That can’t be right.  I mean I know my dearests are all grown-upish and they named those cool jeans after me, but what up girl?  There was a woman of a certain age in my seat!?!$!! And she looked like she wanted to eat her young, even though the game was fun and exciting.  I just saw the movie Book Club which featured four actresses who are all of that certain age, and they looked gooooood.  I mean Jane Fonda is eighty and except for a scene where she was scurrying out of a hotel like a much younger lass, she pulled it off.  Body doubles need jobs too ya know.   I get good doctors, good lighting, and all the accouterments of bipity bopity boo, but still. Made me kind of cranky and no one wants that.  The movie was actually pretty good once they exhausted every cliche and stereotype of ‘that certain age’.  My Manfriend fell asleep which was probably for the best.  As he likes to remind me ‘you don’t have to tell everything’.  Good point.  Let’s just say the TV camera lies.  Enough said.  Now I’m lusting after the Queen Mary tiara that Megan the Duchess of Sussex wore during her wedding.  The royals know how to showcase themselves and have no problem with more is more, less is a bore.  We should all have titles and I’m constructing one of my own.  Hope it catches on.  Maybe then I won’t be so concerned that riding a golf cart on the course after it rains causes irreparable damage and indentations to the grass. #facesofacertainagearewetsod  #thatswhywedrink

While staring at the ocean in a lovely spot with turquoise water, I was feeling quite smug about what I was seeing.  Then of course my Manfriend who sees the world through rose-colored glasses, literally, brought me back to reality.  In his world, the water wasn’t just a basic color.  It was neon, and glowing, and almost three dimensional the way it popped.  All the sudden, things changed for me.  I wanted His world.  Mine wasn’t good enough anymore, and I was lusting after something different.  (Of course I am sooooo getting some of those voodoo glasses.)   There are five regions in the world called the Blue Zones where people live a lot longer then anyone else.  They are constantly being studied so we can all share in that elixir that keeps them healthy into their hundreds.  Nothing they do sounds that extraordinarily  different then the blah blah we all hear.  And maybe even follow.  Until we get some horrible disease that makes no sense and leaves us wondering why we didn’t just smoke and eat dessert.  I would like to tell you where these areas are but you’re on your own for this one.  I sometimes wonder what happens to people who have asked me for directions.  I try to be helpful but I have to start marching to know my left from my right.  Left…left….left right left.  Can’t be brilliant at everything I guess.  Anyyyyyway, I have to think these Blue Zone people have to have a mental heads up greater than the general populace.   Just seeing the world in a different comfort zone.  As someone whose decision-making skills sometimes resemble those of a squirrel trying to cross the road, I think that’s how a lot of us live.  Or at least I keep telling myself that.  We stress about everything and nothing.  We stress about stress.    Especially in America, our ancestors had to have passed down some nasty genes.  Too much work to survive.  And not enough turquoise water.  No answers only more ponderings.  Will continue to enjoy my kale with a silent ‘k’, and snag me some of those magic bean sunglasses…..

 

Those are two groups that are quite distinct and will never co-exist.  Terribly territorial and never going to move out of their social caste no matter what life brings them.  Yes the I Have to pick up poop and the I Have Not ever going to do that.  If you’ve ever walked a dog in a public place you know what I mean and your shackles are already up thinking about The Other Kind.  I’m of the persuasion that dog poop is meant to be left on the ground along with the deer poop, goose poop, coyote poop, and all the other creatures who don’t carry around plastic bags to scoop it hurriedly up or face public recrimination.  And for all you non-dog walkers yes this is a thing.  BIG Thing.  Not long ago I was walking my dog in the kind of park without swings and slides but lots and lots of woods and ponds and wildlife that wasn’t on a leash.  My beast did the deed and I continued on when this old lady coming from another direction started screaming at me something I couldn’t really hear.  (She was probably young but when you’re yelling about sh*t it ages you.  Keep this in mind plastic bag fanatics).  I finally got it and was totally speechless which was amazing in itself.  I took my dignified smirk and just kept walking.  She probably hasn’t slept since.   I almost get it if you live in a neighborhood where children play on their lawns and rolling in sh*t is not cool.  In the summer.  When there is grass not covered by a foot of snow.  Yes I am a multiple offender.  When the parks were impassable, I had the brilliant idea to go to a very ritzy neighborhood where they of course would shovel their sidewalks or have their villagers do it. As a bonus I could peek in their windows since it was such a dark day and there would be lights on inside.  Wrong on all counts.  Not that I would actually peek in windows.  What kind of person do you think I am??   (Ok I am).   Anyway, as I’m trying to s-l-o-w-l-y make my way down the icy sidewalk once again my beast gets the calling.  Before he was barely done this youngish guy comes running out of his house yelling at me to pick up the sh*t.  What was really hilarious is the whole time he’s also carrying on that he’s not the type of person to sit in the window just watching for a perpetrator.  Yea, you kinda are.  I was polite.  Told him to get me a bag and I’ll clean it up and maybe he should shovel his sidewalk because I could feel a big fall coming on$$$$.  I cleaned it up.  And walked on.  And walked back.  And threw the bag-oh-sh*t in his bushes and took off.  Don’t tell.  I slept really greatzzzzzz.  Bottom line.  Of course it buys happiness#firstclass#seasontickets#prettyshoes