humor Archives - Page 2 of 4 - Adulting: Second- Half

IYKYK

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Well, good morning. How did you find my fun little blog? IYKYK Do you know what “IYKYK” means? I just found out this morning. I was lying in bed, reading about this funky little swanky seaside town, and the writer of the article casually threw that acronym into the mix. I showed it to my husband and just like we always do, we stared at it, and started guessing at it, like we were competing with each other, trying to figure out the Wheel of Fortune saying, in order to win the prize. Neither of us could figure it out, so my husband looked it up for me. “If You Know, You Know” So now you know, you know? My understanding is that this is a younger, hipper way of saying that you are somehow “in the know.” Adulting – Second Half, IYKYK. I like it.

So friends, if you really want to trip up the younger people in your circle, casually throw that one out, real casually, into a text. That’ll throw ’em for a loop. “How did that party go last night? IYKYK” That could scare them. Just like when I was a little kid and I thought my mom seemed to have eyes in the back of her head, this text could really start some wheels whirling around in their young heads. They would be thinking, “What does she know? How does she know? Oh no!”

I like surprising my kids like this, every once in a while. It keeps them on their toes. Like the other day, I sent out a text to the family chat, reminding my children not to do stupid things like “the milk crate challenge.” This is another one of those dumb internet challenges where people get filmed doing crazy stunts. People are stacking up empty milk crates, like Jenga pieces, and then seeing if they can balance on top of them, at colossal heights. Sadly, it is not out of the realm of possibility, that my two middle sons might find such a challenge interesting to do, or intriguing to instigate one of their friends to do, while they have their phones going, camera ready. But now they know that their Mom has all of her many eyes wide, wide open (imagine Medusa’s head), and she knows all about the milk crate challenge, and therefore they have gotten her warning not to attempt such foolery, before they could even start collecting and piling up some milk crates. IYKYK

Those who say, do not know.
Those who know, do not say.
~ Le Tse

Our Stories

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

I’m cranky this morning. To me, sleep is probably the most crucial tool in my self-care toolbox. When I have a terrible night’s sleep, I’m just the worst example of my most awful, terrible, dark-sided self. Last night I got creative with dinner and I mixed some ground turkey with tabouli, which I have to say was delicious (and my family agreed). I decided to be generous by sharing some of it with the dogs, by mixing it up in their food. Big mistake. Colossal error in judgment, on my part. Josie, our collie, has a sensitive stomach and my husband and I paid the heavy price for my short-sighted stupidity, last night. Josie woke us up about every two hours to go out. (at least she saved us a mess in the house. She’s tidy like that.) It was like having a newborn again. I read that earlier this year, a 57-year-old woman, in the United States, gave birth naturally to a baby boy. All I can say is, “God bless her.”

Before I started writing today, I decided to check out Holiday Mathis’ horoscope column to see if she thought that there was any hope of me, salvaging the rest of my day. Holiday Mathis often writes in wise riddles. This was my horoscope for today:

“The special fondness between you and your people gets the spotlight as you laugh and share stories, many retold for the 100th time. This is how a legacy gets cemented.” (I’m a Sag, by the way.)

Now, I am not sure how good I will be at telling any stories today, without a level of snark and irritability, stemming from my exhaustion, but we do have our weekly Family Facetime call tonight. And I have noticed that I repeat a lot of the same old stories that I have told at least 100 times, on these family calls, and also to hundreds of other different people. When I was a kid and my elders did that repeating of the same old stories, I always figured that it was a form of aging and memory loss, but now I am wise. As I am telling one of my fond stories, I am fully aware that I have told the same story 543 times previously. As I am telling the same old story, there’s a voice in my head saying, “Oh, come on! Lady! You’ve told this story again and again and again. Look at their eyes glazing over. Stop betraying your age, you old fool!” But I can’t help myself. As an elder who commands some respect, I have my captive audience.

I think that maybe I didn’t repeat my stories so much when I was younger because I didn’t have as many stories. Or I was taking it for granted that I still had a whole lifetime to make stories. Or maybe I didn’t have the wisdom to glean anything from my stories to make them worth sharing. Or perhaps when I was younger, I was more self-conscious, and thus more afraid of being called “boring.” I honestly don’t know. All that I do know, is that as I age, I repeat a lot of my same old stories and it’s not a memory thing. I am fully aware that I do it.

I do like Holiday’s positive spin on it, though. My husband and I have been watching the Vikings series on TV. The Vikings did not have a written language. Their history is all based on legend and lore. Many times during the show, we witness Viking mothers telling stories of their rich history and ancestors to their children before they fall asleep. In the words of Holiday, “This is how legacy gets cemented.”

Most of the stories that I tell again and again, have a degree of fondness and intimacy and hope and humor interlaced in them. Many times I am repeating these stories to the very people whom I made the stories with. Maybe this is a way to try to capture and to keep the wonderful feelings that the experience brought about for all of us. Maybe repeating stories is about holding on to the very essence of all of the players involved. So that when these loved ones are no longer physically with us, we have captured the very spirit that will make them more real to those people who will never meet them physically, but will learn about their heritage, through legacy and lore. People and experiences that are important to us, we want to keep. We want to cement these people and experiences into posterity. Our stories are our lives. Our stories are our way to remain alive forever. Our stories are just a way of transferring the energy of the love and the life that exists in our hearts, on to those who go after us for generations to come, in this adventure that we call Life.

Monday – Funday

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

I love baloney. There are times in life that just call for a fried baloney sandwich. Facts. I grew up in Pittsburgh, PA. There is a famous restaurant there, that puts french fries and cole slaw on top of all of their sandwiches. I would always get the fried baloney version, topped with cheese and french fries and cole slaw. Heaven on bread. (Pittsburgh also perfected/invented? the steak salad, which is a giant pile of steak, french fries and loads of cheese, on top of some lettuce. By the time you finish the toppings, you never even get to the salad part, but at least you can say that you had “a salad” for dinner.)

Bounceback Brew

This is the fifth day since after my vacation, and my bounceback game is terrible. I could easily be an actress in a Zombie movie without even trying. If I had one complaint about getting older, it’s knowing that if I choose to do anything “extra”, the payback is going to be really, really, really hard and tough and miserable. Staying up extra late, having one extra drink, one extra candy bar on Halloween night, one extra mile of walking, one extra sit-up, one extra half inch on my high heels, pizza with extra cheese – girl, you’re gonna pay, extra, extra exponentially!

Last night, I decided to mix up my own concoction of “Bounceback Brew.” (Those who know me well, know my tendencies to become my own sort of “self-taught” intuitive chemist. I take about 8000 supplements a day. I mix up all of my face creams that I bought on impulse, to create, what is in my own mind, a SUPER fabulous, miraculous, all-inclusive, one-step anti-aging cure cream, until I break out in a strange and intensely itchy rash. I love to “layer” my perfumes and lipsticks, until no one can breathe around me, and my lips stick out an extra half-inch from my face. My dear friends and family, thank you for loving kooky little me, just as I am. It means the world.) Bounceback Brew consisted of taking my biggest mug (the one that says “Queen Bee”) and filling it with boiling water. I then took four different tea bags (two sleepy-times, one detox and one Honey Lavender Stress Relief, all made by different tea companies) and I allowed these bags to simmer in the Queen Bee Mug for a good 30 minutes. I then slurped Bounceback Brew down quickly and purposefully. Bounceback Brew did not make me tired. At all. Bounceback Brew did not even help me in the powder room department, but for some strange reason, Bounceback Brew gave me the giggles. (this is all OTC grocery store bought stuff, trust me on this) After imbibing in Bounceback Brew, I thought that the dumbest things were the most hysterical things I had ever seen or read or thought about. And then I got incredibly annoyed with my husband because he was seemingly confused, irritated, and he didn’t see the humor in any of it, at all. So, I was laughing playfully and yet, angrily scolding my husband, all at the same time. This lasted for a good half hour and then, poof, I was back to my current state of “post-vacation clawback to life.”

Try “Bounceback Brew” if you like. There were no nasty side-effects and they do say that laughter is the best medicine, for just about anything. In the meantime, if you have a better recipe for Bounceback Brew, please put it in my Comments section. I am always game to try something new, even if it takes me extra time to recoup from my mixology “gamble”.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Monday Fun-Day

“I’ve already lost touch with a couple of people I used to be.” – Joan Didion

“Happiness is when what you think, what you say and what you do, are in harmony.” – Mahatma Gandhi

“Don’t compare yourself to people who pretend to have it all together.” – Turtlebreezee

“Self care should be a daily practice, not an emergency procedure.” – love yourself (Twitter)

I find Mondays to be good “listening days.” I just put my head down, keep it simple and reflect on how I would like for my week to go. Mondays, tend to be good “find myself and center myself” days. When I go full bore, and I try to get all of my weekly chores done on a Monday, that always ends up being a lesson in frustration and futility. Mondays can be “fun days”, if we keep our expectations in check and our equilibriums finely tuned. May today be an excellent Monday!

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Random Thoughts Thursday

+I ended up at an estate sale the other day. I’ve written before that I don’t particularly love estate sales because it often feels too personal and intimate to rummage through someone’s things and collections and to poke through their “very every day life”, but this estate sale was occuring at an intriguing, unique looking house that I happened to ride by. I was too curious not to stop. I was not disappointed. The home was filled to the brim with collections of every kind. It was like being in a museum and stepping back in time. I made a remark to that affect and one of the women, who was working the sale, murmured in a disgusted tone, “Yep, if she liked it, she bought it.” That was the exact, a-ha moment when I decided that I really didn’t need the odd, yet interesting, olive green owl candle, with a slightly melted ear tuft. I put it back on the table and I headed back to my car for some deeply needed, self-reflection.

+Why is everything these days seemingly “infused with technology”? My shampoo, my moisturizers, my laundry detergent all have descriptions on them, that make them sound like mega computers. I am washing my hair with microchips, apparently. My skin creme has a “hydration complex”. (So now my beauty products have as many complexes as I do.) And we are only on the brink of this “artificial intelligence” revolution. These are actual words, (these are not words that I made up), from some of my ordinary, everyday products: “Zip-Up technology”, “Nanovasive technology”, “dirt and fade technologies.” It feels like all products fall into two categories these days: “All Natural/Organic/Self Sustaining/Renewable/High and Mighty Perfection” or “Advanced Applied Mechanical Engineering in Technological Liquid Form”. Maybe I should rebrand my blog. Adulting – Second Half is an organic, aged mix and essence of non-artificial hormones, and biotic and cellular emotion, transferred on to your screen with the help of Desperate to Spit It All Out in the Hopes of Making Some Sense of It All. (DSIAOHMSSIA technology)

+I am very proud of West Virginia’s New River Gorge being named a National Park this past December. If you have read my blog for a while, you know my affinity for America’s best kept, natural secret – West Virginia. If you want to have a fabulous, nature filled trip this summer, keep this national (Yay!) park on your short list. This beautiful place will remind you that God’s creations are more purely organic, and far surpass any kind of technological wonder than anything that we humans have ever made. You will rest in peaceful awe, as you take in the views of all of the natural wonders that make this gorge and its gorgeous surroundings, so worthy of its new designation.

+Finally, Happy Pride Month!!! In the words of Morgan Freeman: “I hate the word homophobia. It’s not a phobia. You’re not scared. You’re an asshole.”

And as a promised, added feature, here’s Throwback Thursday‘s previous blog post of mine, for today. This one is one of the most viewed posts from my blog:

Angry Tears

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Treats

I love summer and all of the good stuff that comes with summer, such as ice cream trucks. I saw this chart on the internet the other day which showed the typical ice cream novelties commonly available from ice cream trucks. It made me instantly happy. Who doesn’t have fond childhood memories of “the ice cream man”? My regular go-to is the Good Humor Strawberry Shortcake bar (even at the age of 50, I am not beyond having my heart flutter as I rush to my purse, when I hear the familiar sound of the ice cream truck’s twinkling tune, and then pretend that I was just out getting my mail, as I try to appear all casual-like, among the throngs of neighborhood children – “oh well, perhaps a little ice cream could be refreshing, you know, for nostalgia’s sake.”) I honestly have tried each and every one of these scrumptious offerings on the chart, over the years, except for the “Screw Ball”. I had to look it up. I had no idea what a Screw Ball was, so it intrigued me greatly. It turns out that a Screw Ball is a sherbert type concoction in a cone, with a gum ball at the very bottom of the cone. (And this is the part of my story when I envision you all nodding, and rolling your eyes and saying, “Duh! How could you not know what a Screw Ball is???”) I am still not quite curious enough to switch from my Strawberry Shortcake selection, to a Screw Ball, but if it were the last offering left, I wouldn’t say no.

Speaking of gum, I bought four packets of Cinnamon Extra gum at my local Walgreens the other day. They were on clearance for fifteen cents each. When the kind and friendly young man behind the counter was ringing me out, I asked him if he liked gum. “Oh, I like gum,” he said. “Well, take one of these for yourself,” I said on a whim.

Friends, you would have thought I had handed the clerk, a gold bar or a Bitcoin token. His grateful and joyous and sincere reaction kind of bewildered me. He was so overwhelmingly thankful, that part of me was desperate to rummage through my purse for something more, like a hundred dollar bill in order to truly warrant his thankfulness (which I would not have found, because I don’t honestly carry around a lot of cash in my purse these days, and nor did I figure that he would want a used tube of lipstick). I started to sadly wonder if this young man hadn’t received many gifts in his life. Still, the experience, made me feel great. And it obviously seemed to make the clerk feel good, too. This fifteen cent, clearance gum is the most satisfying gum which I have ever purchased in my life, for myself or for anybody else, and I haven’t even taken the cellophane wrapper off of it yet. I suppose that there really is truth to the old adage, “It’s the thought that counts.”

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

The Vibe

The state of my mind, and thus the state of my writing, is all over the map, these last few days. Perhaps it is because a new season is starting, and we (my family and I) haven’t settled into our latest routines, yet. My middle son is home this weekend. He will move to another city, in a couple of months to start medical school. He, myself and my husband were out to dinner last night, and he was telling us about how he is more than ready to get started on a structured routine again. My daughter was on a date last night, and has a few graduation parties to attend tonight. She is eagerly waiting to hear back from some job applications. When I asked her the details of her parties, she rolled her eyes and sighed, “So much social time!” I smiled knowingly. I hate when the equilibrium my daily life feels out of kilter, and heavily leaning towards one activity, versus towards all of the other things, which I also want to do. I think this is just part of our human nature. We crave structure, and then we start to crave a break from our self-made structures. Finding that happy, healthy balance between regimented, systematic, in-control living, plus free-wheeling, up-for-anything, creative leisure time, seems to be a challenge for everyone who I know – young and old.

What’s your “vibe” these days, readers? Are you feeling a little unsettled as “normal” life opens up more possibilities to us every day, and our routines are changing? If nothing else, the pandemic really simplified our lives down the bare studs, didn’t it? Incidentally, the word “vibe” seems to be making a revival. A friend of mine had a job interview the other day, and the young, millennial manager wanted my friend to come into the workplace to see if she would “fit into the vibe.” Our group of friends (all from older generations), of course, got a lot of giggles out of the wording, and “vibe” became the joke word of the night. Of course, that same night, my 17-year-old daughter texted me to let me know that she was just driving around, “vibing” with her friends. They say that “your vibe attracts your tribe.” I like my tribe. They’re a great tribe. So, I guess my vibe is pretty good. Valencia (Twitter) recently tweeted, “Vibing with people who have the same goofy humor as you, is so therapeutic.” I giggled to myself when I read that quote. I was thinking about the fact that my tribe and I, made at least 67 jokes about the word “vibe,” when my friend told us about her interview story. And we laughed hysterically at all 67 goofy “vibe” jokes, as they seemed to get better and better, as the night went on. And Valencia was right, vibing with my tribe, who share my same goofy humor, and laughing hysterically, truly was, much-needed and amazing therapy.

37 Good Vibes Quotes With Images for a Happy Life - Darling Quote

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Faux is French for Fake

I was perusing some online shopping outlets and I looked at a “faux” shearling jacket. I live in Florida, thus I don’t need too many jackets, and I certainly do not need too many warm jackets. Therefore, I passed on buying the jacket. Still, I paused on the description page, and I felt a tad nostalgic and wistful. Having grown up in Pennsylvania, there are two things that I miss about living in the north, these things being fall leaves and winter clothes. Certainly, I don’t miss having to wear winter clothes to ward off frigid temperatures and snow, but I do love the look of winter clothes. Winter clothes have more texture, and comfortability, and richness of quality to them, than summer clothes do. Winter clothes beg to be layered. And the biggest plus about winter clothes, is that they are so much more forgiving than summer clothes. They’re like make-up/masks/disguises for your body, whereas a bathing suit is like that giant magnifying glass at your dermatologist’s office.

Reading the description of the jacket, I had to giggle at the word “faux.” The French have a way of making everything sound lovely and sophisticated, don’t they? What if the description kept it all in the same language and said, “Fake Shearling Jacket.” Yep, it’s fake. Do ya still wannit? I wonder if the word “faux” is as off-putting to the French, as the word “fake” is to us. Do they change “faux” to the word “fake” in their descriptions of things, to give their products a more exotic, foreign appeal? I have my doubts. I’ve read that a lot of Europeans like to buy American western wear here. Do their catalogs advertising “vegan leather” (ha!) cowboy boots read, “Fake cuir des bottes de cowboy”? Maybe using the word “fake” gives the boots a charming, Americana twang to the description?

There are so many word comparisons like this, that seem to accentuate our American down-home flavor, versus the French air of sophistication:

biscuit/croissant

swagger/savoir-faire

really good/par excellence

fancy clothes/haute-couture

friendliness/bonhomie

one-on-one/tête-à-tête

“the bomb”/crème de la crème

get together/rendez-vous

presto!/voila!

I love being American. I’ve been to France once, and it was nice. The French were actually much kinder to us than they are reported to be. In fact, they sure were super friendly! 😉 I think that the French people, who we met, must have felt my joie de vivre, being on a fabulous trip. Truth be told, I don’t speak French at all. I took five years of Latin for my foreign language requirement. There are so many stories and sub-stories from this experience, (my erratic and dramatic Latin instructor was also my hyper-competitive high school Forensics coach, and his wife, alarmingly looked exactly like a human version of Betty Boop), but these stories are for another blog post, some day.

Reading over this post, I see how “off track” I tend to get, and how rambling it is. It’s been a crazy week. Pardon, my la divigation, s’il vous plaît. Thank you, kindly! Merci!

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Happy Furthday!!!

Josie (collie, who turns 3 today): It’s our shared birthday today, dear Ralphie! May I be the first to wish the both of us, a very lovely and Happy Birthday! (prim, beautiful and alert with white-tipped tail swishing, like an overgrown, elegant fox)

Ralphie (yellow Labrador retriever, who turns 4 today): Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! (jumping around and licking everything in sight, hitting a few notes on the piano with his chin and leaving some dog slime on the keys, grabbing a now formless/headless toy and running around the house with it, tail going like a helicopter blade)

Trip (Boykin spaniel, who is a little over a year old): Treats!!! Does this mean treats?!? Does this mean lots of treats?!? Does this mean extra treats?!? Huh?? Huh?? Huh?? (springboards off of the couch and exuberantly and fearlessly jumps on top of Ralphie, despite $600+ dollars worth of training to stop this behavior, so as to not be mauled by Ralphie, a large dog who has 70 pounds on him, and a huge retriever mouth, full of sharp, white teeth. Ralphie, despite having a saint-like amount of patience, has shown that even a Labrador retriever’s renowned patience has its worldly, and understandable limits.)

Camera pans on Ralphie, the yellow Lab, dreaming of what his perfect birthday would look like: Ralphie, swimming in the pool from dusk to dawn, with his whole pack, humans and dogs, all swimming with him, and throwing his disgusting, wet, soggy toy into the pool endlessly for him to retrieve at the surface, and even from the bottom of the pool, and then clapping for him, enthusiastically, each time, as if we have never seen him do this 800,000 times before. Ralphie only comes out of the pool once, for a whole, hot, delicious steak, fresh off the grill, without even having to beg for it.

Camera then pans on Josie, the elegant collie, dreaming of what her perfect birthday would look like: A day when herding Ralphie, while he is swimming in the the pool would not be necessary, because Ralphie would not be in the pool. A day that the squirrels stay in their own nests, in the neighbor’s yard, far, far way, so that she does not have to worry about those icky, little squirrels dirtying up our trees and our lawn. A day when there will be no deliveries from Amazon Prime, so she can save her voice. A day when Trip would stand still long enough, so that she could tidy him up, licking him carefully, as if they were both Fancy Feast Persian cats. Josie, enjoying a long, long, long wonderful walk with no kids roller skating nor skateboarding on the sidewalks, to disturb her peace and comfort.

Trip, the boisterous Boykin spaniel: F*ck birthdays! I do whatever I want to do, every day!! Give me another treat!!

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.