Sadly, I think that this was really me, most of my life. I just worry about it less now. Monday, Fun-Day friends!! According to scientists, play is important for adults because it helps to relieve stress, it helps to improve brain function, play stimulates creativity, it is good for relationships and finally, playing keeps you feeling young and energetic. Don’t forget to add some play into your day!!
Happy Monday! Happy Fun-day from Florida, the capital of lawn flamingoes!! Now before getting on with your day, and on with your week, think of 3-5 things which you are grateful for, right in this moment. Next, think about why you are so thankful for these things, people, happenings, pets, etc., and feel how good you feel. Pause and bask in it. This is the good, warm fuzzy feeling that you are aiming for all week. You are meant to feel this good, all of the time. This good feeling is what being aligned with the Universe is all about. Any time you start getting frazzled or angry or sad, use this activity to get back on track. Have a great week!!
My friend sent this to our group chat yesterday. Humor helps, right?! Have a great Monday! See you tomorrow.
Today is my hair appointment day. My hair has become the coat (or hat, I guess) of many colors . . . and many textures. I’ve decided that my stylist is a genius. Every two months or so, I go to her, wanting the exact same look, yet every time I go to her, I feel like I am bringing her a different head of hair to work with. My grays are popping out like weeds these days. When I pull one out, six more arrive, the next day, in revenge. Lately I feel like my real hair is like a clearance, bargain wig. It looks like it is a mish-mash of whatever hair they had left to work with, all sewn together, trying to create a semblance of order, but failing miserably. I’m not brave enough to stop coloring, so I honestly have no idea what my natural hair looks like anymore. I haven’t seen it in years . . . . decades, actually. I’ve always loved my stylist, but the older I get, the more dependent on her, I’ve become. She is one of my lifelines. She is one of my “emergency numbers.” All of you middle-aged women understand this, I know. Tell your stylist your love him or her today. They truly are the wizards of our lifetime. They transform us into “us” at least five times a year, no matter what materials we bring them to work with and at the same time, pretend like is a piece of cake.
So a couple of days ago, I walked out to our driveway and I started panicking. It appeared that our driveway had been covered with white paint splotches all over it. We have just had a bunch of painting and renovations done here, at the house, and I figured, “Great, the kids or the painters or someone else dragged a garbage bag out to the street that had paint in it, and it got all over our driveway! Just great.”
I immediately started looking for paint thinner until it dawned on me that the massive splotches were actually not paint at all, but a present left from one of the pterodactyl-sized birds we have living around us, here in tropical Florida. So you would think, that this dawning moment, would have prompted me to get the garden hose out, but instead I got out my phone and looked to see how soon we could be expecting a torrential downpour. (no time soon, unfortunately)
The upside here is that when I started looking up funny memes about bird droppings, it turns out that in many cultures (and definitely Turkish cultures), having a bird poop on you or your belongings, is actually considered a mark of very good luck. Some websites even suggested that I stop whatever I was doing (looking at your website, duh) and run right out and buy a lottery ticket. I didn’t yet, but I will . . . .
Moral of the story: There IS an upside to everything.
Rabbit. Rabbit. Rabbit. Happy April Fool’s Day! Here’s another no horse-pucky story for the archives (please check out my other “no horse-pucky stories from previous posts, for a giggle or two):
When I was a freshman in college, my suite-mates had all gone home for the weekend before April Fool’s Day, but I had not. I was bored that weekend. It must have been a relatively quiet weekend at school or perhaps I had studied too hard, but I got a wild hair to pull off a great April Fool’s prank. I typed up an official looking note and taped it up on the door to our suite. It said something like this:
We regret to inform you that our pest control officers have found this Hall to be infested with indigenous pellet worms. In order to treat the area, you will need to move all of your furniture to the center of your rooms, wash all of your bedding, throw away all open food containers and remove any wall hangings. We are very sorry for this inconvenience and we appreciate your compliance.
I wish this had been during the day and age of smart phones. The looks of pure horror and disgust on my suite-mates’ faces, were priceless and would have made for a wonderful You-Tube video. I was actually astonished with how fast they got to work moving their furniture (one of the girls donned rubber gloves). I started feeling kind of guilty and I was having a hard time stifling my giggles, so when the food started getting thrown out, I had to come clean. As I recall, there were definitely some paybacks, but the prank was worth it. Albeit cheesy, I felt like I had pulled off the heist of the century.
By the way, I made up the term “indigenous pellet worm.” It sounded really gross and scientific, but there really is no such thing. No horse- pucky.
Earlier this year, my aunt and uncle came to visit us. We were very excited to see them as we don’t get to see them very often due to the fact that they live in England. So, I spent a lot of time preparing for their visit. On the day of their arrival, the rest of the family was at school and work, so I did the final preparations. (you know shopping, cooking, shoving things in closets) About an hour or so before their due arrival, I set the dining room table elegantly and I lit a scented candle before heading to take my shower.
About 5 minutes into my shower, I heard a voice I’ve never heard before. It was an extremely loud, urgent woman’s voice broken up intermittently by a piercing beeping sound. Her voice firmly screamed, “Fire! Fire! Fire!” Now right outside of the shower entrance was Ralphie, our labrador retriever. He is a water dog, through and through, and we’ve had to train him that he cannot shower with us, so he just waits right outside the shower door hoping to catch some mist. Ralphie went into overdrive the minute the screaming woman started screaming. Lacey, our collie, who usually walks around the house herding dust bunnies (mostly her own hair), came running to meet me at the shower, too. Now, I’m kind of “hit or miss” when it comes to emergencies, so I didn’t think to grab a robe or a towel. I just ran naked out to the dining room with my hysterical canine entourage in tow. There in the center of my dining room table, the centerpiece had fallen into the candle and the middle of the table was on fire. If I had done it on purpose, it actually looked kind of cool and dramatic, but obviously, there is nothing really cool about a wooden table being on fire.
It’s funny when you look back at these things and observe your reactions. At that moment, I was honestly just annoyed as hell. The noise of the screaming woman fire alarm and the barking dogs was driving me mad. I was running naked from the kitchen to the dining room, tripping over my hysterical dogs, with pitchers of water and the whole time, in my mind, I was going over whether we would have to eat in the kitchen now and would we all fit?!? Seriously. As I was throwing water at my table, I started wondering if I would have time to buy another tablecloth. Thankfully, my mind wasn’t going to the fact that my whole house could burn down with me and the pups with it. I guess minimizing is my emergency defense mechanism?!?
In the end, I was able to put the fire out, and luckily, since I had a thick tablecloth and even thicker table pads, our dining room table (which has a lot of sentimental value – granted, dining rooms tables usually do, due all of the family meals, holidays, games, arguments and celebrations that are often shared around them) was completely spared. In fact, we even ate in the dining room that night. Despite the campfire aroma, all went very well.
So what is the point of this story? None really. I just think it’s funny and it is good to laugh every day. Especially at yourself.
