Skip to main content

Aging Acumen?

When I was making wedding plans (I mean the most recent wedding), Danny typed to me, “On such an extraordinary occasion I believe I must wear a tuxedo.”
That may be my favorite sentence ever.
         Therefore, let me say, “Upon the impending celebration of my birth, I am glad to be alive and I shall wear a shade of gray,” at least as far as my hair is concerned.
         Let me just throw out that famous question at the same time: At what point shall I wear purple with a red hat that doesn’t go?
         I feel like my time is now.
         My hairdresser Seniel is a great influence. She waves her scissors about like Johnny Depp and says, “I know what to do. Let’s do a little something…” I told her today that my birthday is tomorrow and if she had a tattoo parlor next door, I would have stopped by there on my way home from getting my haircut. I think a little “JCDC” for James, Cate, Dan, and Chris penned on my wrist or ankle (cankle) is in order on this “extraordinary occasion.”
         The older I get, the more freedom I feel. And the more I wish I would’ve figured this out decades ago. And the more I wonder why didn’t I?
         Ah, there are so many things my friends, that no one tells us.
         Number one in my book is: Never, ever care about what other people think when it comes to finding your happiness. Okay, unless you’re Hitler or something.
         Number two: Wear whatever the hell you want.
         Number three: Never listen to country music unless it was popular before 1960.
         Number four: Always order guacamole with your nachos. Life is too damn short to do otherwise and you know you want it.
         Number five: Take time to write down the recipe for any cake your aunt used to make.
         Number six: Kiss your husband (or partner) for no reason, especially if he/she appears to be slightly annoyed.
         Number seven: Meet your neighbors. Just walk over and do it. My husband does this and I am jealous every time he does it.
         Number eight: Love your children no matter what choices they make.
         Number nine: Remember that your parents did the best they could with what they had . . . and hope that your children think the same of you.
         Number ten: Find your Zen, your God, your Mojo, whoever, whatever it is that means your quiet place.
         That’s what I got for you on this day before my 54th birthday. God knows I hope I can share some more old lady wisdom next year.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Splitting Hairs

    I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned my hair a few times. I think we need to delve into it a bit further. You see, when it takes a $200 trip off-Island to get a haircut, or new underpants for that matter, you take a haircut seriously. Besides, when you’ve got the broad shoulders and the wide hips, you rely on your hair as a sort of aphrodisiac, if you know what I mean.                 I’ve been thinking about a haircut for about 8 months now. Did I mention life chugs along pretty slowly around these parts, giving me plenty of time for watching paint dry or the grass grow? Anyhow, I came to the decision that I should go ahead and do it even though more than one woman here told me she left her last appointment at the hair salon in tears. Hey, it takes more than a crappy haircut for me to turn on the waterworks. And naturally I consider tears over a haircut pretty much wasted. There are so many o...
5 comments
Read more

He sells sea shells, I wish

   So now rather than being obsessed with fake fingernails I can’t afford, I’m becoming obsessed with checking this blog. I’m pretty sure all 52 views were made by either me or my husband.   That leads me right into the current situation at hand. We need friends. We’re desperate for them. I’ve started handing out my telephone number to people I meet while doing my meager freelance work. They think it’s for the story I’m writing but really it’s in hope that someday they’ll find a reason to call and then I can hit them with, “By the way, do you play cards? Bingo? Gin Rummy?” If I wasn’t so arthritic I’d throw Twister in there.    It’s not so much for me, it’s my husband who likes to have people around. I have become hermit-like since moving here while he has become convinced we could die here and not be found for months. He had friends back in Syracuse but he chose to stay home at night with his loving wife. Now all of a sudden I get the impression he’d h...
6 comments
Read more

Be Careful What You Wish For

                 I have married myself. I don’t know how I did it, but I managed to meet the male version of me, right down to the weight insecurities and the penchant for fart jokes. Between us our combined age is somewhere around 19.                 This brings me great joy.                 I had decided after many long distance phone calls from my sister that I really wasn’t going to meet a nice guy by sitting on the couch in my living room. I needed to get out. “You’re not getting any younger,” she egged me on. “You know, those kids are going to grow up and leave you and then what are you going to do?”                 So one Saturday night I let the kids help doll me u...
4 comments
Read more