Now that I am in my 40's, I have encountered a few things that the older women in my life really should have given me a heads up about. Of course, that is not how the old lady clan rolls and I know it. That would take some of their fun away and god forbid someone try to disrupt their fun!
It doesn't really bother me that they didn't tell me what they KNOW is coming with each new decade of life so much as the sheer pleasure, some could argue joy and possibly even elation (they sometimes share their friends) as they validate that this really is "normal" ohdearlordwhatinthehellishappeningtome female aging and that I am really not some alien. I'm just saying, it isn't exactly as the text books described. Like most things in life, it's all about where in the spectrum you happen to fall with a dash of the genetic deck you're dealt.
Near the top of the list of these new adventures is what I have affectionately dubbed "40's brain".
40's brain strikes without warning and presents with many symptoms--Distant cousins include: toddler brain, teenage brain, pregnant brain, well--you get the idea. I had my very own, undeniable, Hallmark should have a freakin' card for this 40's brain moment a few months ago that was almost repeated today.
Then, I had plans to spend the weekend with the Donnas plus Susan in Hilton Head, SC and was super ready to roll out for a girl's getaway weekend. You can never have a bad time when you're spending time with the Donnas. It's not just 'cause I could potentially be slightly biased as I love them both dearly.
I had asked for the day off at least a couple of months in advance, but got the fabulous non-approved, but not quite denied, response of "We'll see how things are when it gets closer." Unfortunately, as a contractor, I did not have the magic vacation/comp time card or the sick day trump card. The week of the great runaway, the message became, "Maybe you can take 1/2 day on Friday." On Friday, the message was "I'll let you go as soon as things settle down a little." Considering that a 4 pm (Central time mind you, so 5 pm EST) meeting invite had just hit my Outlook inbox before lunch, I knew that time wasn't going to be nearly as soon as I wanted it to be.
At some point there was enough of a break between calls and UAT discussions that I was able to pull leftover steamed dumplings from the fridge and toss 'em in the microwave for "lunch". Lunch is air quoted as at some point after the normal time for lunch but before the last two calls of my day, I remembered the forgotten and long cooled off dumplings. I flipped the closed container over and hit the :30 button to make it all better and enjoy a slightly later lunch. Just something else on my to-do list before wrapping up work and heading south to meet up with the girls, who were already on their way to the reward of cocktails at the bar with a water view at the end of the drive down I-95.
My call ended just before 6 pm EST and I hopped in the car and headed south for a fabulous out of town weekend. Sunday came way before any of us were ready and we headed back to reality in our northbound caravan of two vehicles.
Fast forward to early Tuesday afternoon, I opened the door to the microwave to nuke lunch. Imagine my shock and surprise at the re-discovery of the neglected steamed dumplings that had been hanging out in the microwave since Friday afternoon. OhMyFreakin'GodJebusOnAStick! Dumplings that have been hanging out in the microwave since Friday......so not my favorite! I gingerly pushed down on the bottom of the plastic bowl to ensure that it really was closed and then using as few fingers as possible from each hand slowly turned the bowl right side up where I was greeted by a glimpse of the now batik/shades of grey tie-dyed dumplings safely encapsulated within the fortunately well closed container. I promptly placed container and dumplings unopened (I have gotten that t-shirt repeatedly during past close encounters with forgotten items found while cleaning out the fridge) into a plastic bag which went into another plastic bag and then to the garbage container outside. Fortunately for me (and the furry kidlets), no toxic fumes were released during the potential Haz-Mat incident, although the person I was on the phone with took a hot minute to stop laughing at me. Really, who am I kidding. It took ME a hot minute to stop laughing at me.
The lessons:
1. Life is a long, strange trip best enjoyed with the ones you love as much as possible
2. Aging is not for sissies
3. If you can laugh at it, it'll be OK
4. Thank God for plastic Chinese containers that can be tossed in the trash without guilt.
5. Always check the microwave and/or toaster oven before you run away for the weekend.
Thankfully, today the replication of said 40's brain moment was avoided and I thoroughly enjoyed my leftover steamed dumplings for brunch.
:-)
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Sometimes it's just that simple....
I love it when something is said that provides you with a flash of clarity and you have a (sometimes out loud) and the chorus said "AMEN!" moment.
Not too long ago, I had one of those moments that proved to be the inspiration for my first blog post. Granted, if I was not such a great procrastinator the post would have happened sooner rather than now....but I digress.
I was talking to That Boy (who is really a Grown Ass MAN and hasn't been a boy for many, many years but that is for another place and time) and the topic of who should get a "vote" in your life came up. Being a chick, I had a long list of conditions and situations where I would solicit opinions from different people prior to making a decision. That Boy told me that he had very simple guidelines on who could share their opinions/suggestions/votes for him. "It all comes down to the 3 F's", he said. He laughed when I requested he spell it out as I had no knowledge of these 3 F's. "In order for you to get a vote on anything I do, you either need to be feeding me, fucking me or financing me. If we don't share DNA and you aren't doing at least one of those things, I don't want your opinion or permission--nor do you get a vote."
"Furthermore," he continued with a smug grin, "the bigger the part you play in the 3 F's, the bigger the vote.........it still may not be the winning vote, or even be a deciding vote; but I will at least ask what you think and take it into consideration."
Just like that my inside voice jumped up, waved its hands skyward and joyfully exclaimed and the chorus said "AMEN!!" I was thankful that it had not escaped via my out loud voice as often times things slip out of my mouth before the filter has a chance to engage.
He was speaking man--which is not my favorite language as I am far from fluent and often disagree, but it also made perfect sense.
I tried in vain to hold back the giggles starting to erupt. Needless to say, the giggle fit won and lasted for several minutes complete with tears streaming down my face and an annoying stitch in my side at the end.
Sometimes it really is that simple. period.
So often, like many of the threads that create the fabric for our quilt of life, things can easily become convoluted and more complicated than they should be.
I promptly took the "Gospel of the F's" according to That Boy to all of my ya-ya's who howled with laughter all while nodding in full and total agreement. We have decided to adopt it as our own and use it as often as possible, while sharing with others. Well, mostly. Maybe with one slight alteration. I mean, really....not so much an alteration as a slight addition. At the end of the day, we are not exactly low maintenance chicks and that's how we roll.
Keeping the F trend intact, the tweak is "Fixin' stuff". Lord knows that there are few things better than a man who can fix stuff.
Now, go in peace and spread the word of the Gospel....
Not too long ago, I had one of those moments that proved to be the inspiration for my first blog post. Granted, if I was not such a great procrastinator the post would have happened sooner rather than now....but I digress.
I was talking to That Boy (who is really a Grown Ass MAN and hasn't been a boy for many, many years but that is for another place and time) and the topic of who should get a "vote" in your life came up. Being a chick, I had a long list of conditions and situations where I would solicit opinions from different people prior to making a decision. That Boy told me that he had very simple guidelines on who could share their opinions/suggestions/votes for him. "It all comes down to the 3 F's", he said. He laughed when I requested he spell it out as I had no knowledge of these 3 F's. "In order for you to get a vote on anything I do, you either need to be feeding me, fucking me or financing me. If we don't share DNA and you aren't doing at least one of those things, I don't want your opinion or permission--nor do you get a vote."
"Furthermore," he continued with a smug grin, "the bigger the part you play in the 3 F's, the bigger the vote.........it still may not be the winning vote, or even be a deciding vote; but I will at least ask what you think and take it into consideration."
Just like that my inside voice jumped up, waved its hands skyward and joyfully exclaimed and the chorus said "AMEN!!" I was thankful that it had not escaped via my out loud voice as often times things slip out of my mouth before the filter has a chance to engage.
He was speaking man--which is not my favorite language as I am far from fluent and often disagree, but it also made perfect sense.
I tried in vain to hold back the giggles starting to erupt. Needless to say, the giggle fit won and lasted for several minutes complete with tears streaming down my face and an annoying stitch in my side at the end.
Sometimes it really is that simple. period.
So often, like many of the threads that create the fabric for our quilt of life, things can easily become convoluted and more complicated than they should be.
I promptly took the "Gospel of the F's" according to That Boy to all of my ya-ya's who howled with laughter all while nodding in full and total agreement. We have decided to adopt it as our own and use it as often as possible, while sharing with others. Well, mostly. Maybe with one slight alteration. I mean, really....not so much an alteration as a slight addition. At the end of the day, we are not exactly low maintenance chicks and that's how we roll.
Keeping the F trend intact, the tweak is "Fixin' stuff". Lord knows that there are few things better than a man who can fix stuff.
Now, go in peace and spread the word of the Gospel....
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