goat whiskers and things my mother never told me

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I have a birthday this week.  Birthdays remind us of aging of course, and with this comes some questions I have for my mother.  Like, why didn’t you tell me?

As I sat across from a colleague at a business meeting a few years ago I was mesmerized by a freaky inch and a half long hair on her chin  waving in the gently blowing HVAC breeze in the little room.  My mind wandered from the budget variance agenda to wonder how she lived with that? Like does she blow dry it? Condition it? Does she not have tweezers?

Goat whiskers, my Mom called them. But she didn’t tell me they grace us all as we age.  She didn’t tell me that tweezers will be your new best friend in a few years.

My Mom said that if you slept in your underpants you would grow funny.  I am not sure if that’s ‘Ha Ha funny” or “weird funny”.  I may have dodged that bullet.  Just sayin’.

I was introduced to face cream and moisturizer at an early age. Many, many thanks for that Mom. I remember overhearing (or eavesdropping as us kids so often did) my parents talking about a friend of ours “she needs to wear a turtleneck or hide at Thanksgiving”.  A comment I thought uproariously funny at the time. Not so much now.

Elbows, for some reason were super important. It seemed that potential husbands would flee with horror at the sight of elbows peeking out like bearded dragons from the 3/4 sleeves of the peter pan collared blouses we wore.

Maybe it’s not fair to say my Mom never told me.  After all, we all age and change and morph into versions of ourselves we may not be ready for.  The grace is in accepting that it will happen, and fight to preserve what we can  or wish to. The grace is in staying healthy; taking control of what we can. The grace is in being happy with the here and now.

And as my friend says ” carry a pair of tweezers on your key chain”.

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wait a minute – where’s the cellulite?

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Those ads.  The all-inclusive resort, azure blue waters, all the beautiful people. I can almost feel the soft tropical wind gently blowing the sarong slouched oh-so-sexy on my hips.

Wait a minute……. where’s the cellulite?   Continue reading

dancing the swamp limbo

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How low can they go? I think they’ve dug out the soft mucky floor of the swamp in the quest to see what new level of low they can achieve. To see just how far below the bar they can go.

Dancing the swamp limbo.  When he sends his aide out to see if he can get a used mattress from a Trump hotel bedroom….well, that’s swamp limbo.  How low can he go?

What? Is he hoping something will rub off on him as he slumbers with sweet dreams of spending taxpayer’s money, reclining Caesar-like on a used mattress from the castle of his lord?

Ya can’t make this stuff up and it’s new swampy dance move every day. This one is a new low, though…and icky, too.

 

 

 

 

that Wednesday feeling

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This happened:  It was a great day of co-presenting a couple sessions with a colleague.

This happened:  My friend had a snake in her office!! No, not a pet; a wild terrifying snake. Well, it was terrifying to her and it would have been a big NOPE for me. I would have  had to find a new place to work.

This happened: A co-worker shared a photo of her new baby goat that made everyone smile….lots.

It was a Wednesday feeling all day.

I must have a nap in the sunshine with an egg carton for a pillow.

for you, for Mother’s Day

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We all have people special to us; closer in some ways than if by blood with the family last name.  A couple of weeks ago I had a journey with my “daughter-ish” person who holds a dear place in my heart.

Perhaps being family is more than the signed registry and wedding ring.

Perhaps being family is more than supporting each other through raising a young man we are so proud of.

Perhaps being family is more than sharing the love of a little fat dog.

Perhaps being family is more than the obligatory Mother’s Day phone call.

Perhaps being family is sharing delight in finding the things that warm our hearts…..or our privates, as we wander through vintage shops together.

I am blessed.

satellite radio, cable news and the snoring thing

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I love my cable news.  Not the news station with the animal name; nope, the other one. Cable news when it’s not breaking and covering tragedies is a bit like a soap opera complete with the albeit orange-tinged patriarch with expressionless Botox beautiful women following dutifully along behind in red-soled stilettos.  You get my drift.

I love my cable news so much that I listen to it on satellite radio on my short commute to work, but for heaven’s sake, what’s with the ads on satellite radio? There are proportionally more snoring ads – ads for snore stopping devices than anything else and in my short 35 minute commute I hear my share.

To be fair, there are also ads for hair loss, owing back taxes, luggage and hemorrhoidal treatment tucked in amongst the snoring ads. Yeah, I wonder what demographic study was done for effective advertising for the satellite radio-listening audience.

I for one do use luggage and have paid back taxes.  I guess 2 outta 3 ain’t bad.