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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.

….I could not be blown away WHEWWWWWW! Hear that wind? That golden orb in the sky really did outdo herself. Must be a female because she brought it! There are many things I do/see/feel/taste/hear that just do not live up to the hype #Beyoncesnewcountryalbum. I tried to like it. I Wanted to like it because music just doesn’t engulf me like it used too. I can still remember sitting in my little box of a bedroom and listening to my two 45’s for hours. And loving every minute of it. Every new record got played way more than it probably should have. Guess that is probably a story for a therapist. But music gave me so much pleasure. Now I hear new songs and I feel like Larry David ach. But that eclipse…. Over whelmed me. I still miss ‘totality’ day after, and that’s a word I never heard before but will use inappropriately for years to come. Kind of like the Kentucky Derby where they say it’s the most exciting two minutes in sports, at ‘totality’ it was the best three minutes and seventeen seconds that Mother Nature had to offer. The sky looked amazing, the surroundings looked amazing, and new colors exploded all around me. It takes a lot for this Boomlennial to be wowed, and wowed I was. And still am. Just thinking about it gives me goosebumps, just like I got when the sky darkened and the temperature dropped during the event. Brrrrr. Just thrilling. Now you may be thinking I need a life, and maybe I could step it up a bit, but can’t quite think of anything to give me that buzz. Pharmaceuticals, perhaps, but give me a few more years to go that route. Most people do drugs when they’re young, but I think it should be a boomlennial pursuit. I’m going to start smoking cigs when I’m eighty and move on from there. Something to live for and all that. If I could have an eclipse everyday I’d be a satisfied woman. Is it really too much to ask?? Guess I should be grateful that there are new experiences out there, and just when I’m sure I’ve seen it all, I haven’t. Hope they all don’t involve celestial phenomenon because then you’re getting into some deep sh* t. One of my wee dearests who was watching with me asked what the Rapture was. Don’t know where he heard that term since we are not a biblical family. So, of course, Google had the answer which kind of freaked us all out. Mainly because people think it’s going to happen. I’ll settle for a small weather event, like a hurricane, or tornado. Juuuust kidding. Kind of. Think I mean a nice passive event. Or do I????? #hitmewithyourbestshot

Now that the calendar has turned, I’m already counting down to the new year. Not that I’m in any rush. Boomlennials do things just a bit slower, and that includes making plans. Or maybe that’s just me. Once that new physical calendar is on the wall, it looks lonely and bare. Like it wants my attention. But do I really want to give it?? New year, must start making those annual doc appointments. Knock knock. But, I need to pace myself. Find out one part is good, then reevaluate. Or screw the rest if it’s not. Even my Manfriend is breathing down my neck. And not in a good way. He likes to plan things. Nice things. For me. So why do I feel the pressure?? Pick pick pick. #whowhatwhenwhere #why Leave me alone. (Not really). Guess making decisions that are ‘optional’ just crowd me. In real life, I make lots-oh-decisions. Hard decisions. Important decisions. So important. So where to go for a birthday dinner just leaves me clawing and snarling. Poor Manfriend. Yet he persists. Snarl. Turn the month over. Must start making vacay plans. Book it! Turn the page. Going to a destination wedding. Book it! Turn the page. Years half over. See where I’m going with this?? Me neither. Just thought I’d enlighten you with my nonsense. It’s that dang calendar in the kitchen. Staring at me to give it some meat. I tried using an online calendar, but that did not work out. You actually have to open it and look at it. Which I did. Usually after the fact. So now I do both, and on a good day I show up where I need to, or decide it must not have been that important. Or panic because it was. Quit calling me! So here’s what I learned. Never take a dog named Shark to the beach.