You May Label Me ‘Wise Woman of a Certain Age’

Let me say this right upfront.  I happen to think labels are mainly good — and necessary.  After all, we need labels to to communicate effectively and to maintain societal order.

They help us make sense of our world.

If I write the word ‘toaster’, for example, then you would know that I’m talking about a small electrical appliance that browns bagels, bread, pop tarts and those awful frozen waffles that really should be banned.  Okay, we may not agree that frozen waffles should be banned, but hopefully we do agree about the toaster.

Often labels elicit strong feelings, and sometimes labels can hurt.

Like yesterday.  My local movie theater has officially labeled me a ‘senior.’  Just barely, but a ‘senior’ nonetheless.  The good news is that I saved $1.50 on the matinee.  The bad news is that I cried throughout most of the movie.

I do not feel, act or (I hope!) look like a senior, but I am fast approaching the age when people will view me as just that very label.  My hope is that we can come up with something that has a better ring to it than ‘senior citizen.’

What about ‘seasoned adult’?  ‘Mature person’?  I’d take either of these labels in a heartbeat.  Boomers want a new name for our generation as we age, because the current one — senior citizen — just isn’t cutting it.

Any ideas you’d like to share?

The “Groupon Queen” is “Living Social”

Last week Nancy bought 12 exercise classes online at a ridiculously low fee of $29 — saving more than 88%.  On the down side, Nancy must now drive to Nevada to redeem the coupon for the classes.

Since Nancy lives in California, this is a problem.

“But it was such a terrific deal, I just couldn’t pass it up,” Nancy whined in a high-pitched, plaintive voice.

Why the annoying third person?  I need to get some distance between me (Nancy) and the problem (online coupons and deals).   Yes, the deals have become a big deal and the big deals have turned into a big problem.

It all started out pretty innocently.  Last summer I read about Groupon in the newspaper and signed up to get their emails.  Next, a friend told me about Living Social and someone else mentioned Bogopod.  Within a week, I had bought four deals and was crowing about these incredible savings.

What I failed to take into account is my penchant for getting swept up in the latest craze.  Like a lot of people who spend an inordinate amount of time online, I love being one of the first in my crowd to discover something new.  In this case, that something new is combined with something else that I truly love: Saving money.

Certainly, everyone enjoys saving money, but let me note that I will often go to extreme lengths to secure a good discount.  I come by it naturally.  My Mom — whom we often call Mummy — is a champion saver.   Mummy proudly calls herself a “coupon queen” and has never met a deal she didn’t like.

When Mummy was a tad younger, she would whip down to Mexico to stock up on cheap liquor, beer and groceries, although the groceries weren’t always mandatory.  Thankfully, Mummy and my Dad lived in south Texas at the time, so Mexico wasn’t far away.  Their little vacation home was located in the Rio Grande Valley, also affectionately known as the “armpit of Texas,” which will give you some idea why they needed all that liquor.

While in Mexico, Mummy would sometimes stop in to see her dentist.  Yep, she found her dentist via a flyer left on her Buick windshield.  It featured a half-off coupon for two new teeth (patient’s choice) and Mummy couldn’t resist.  Mind you, Mummy’s teeth never again matched-up in color or bite, but that didn’t matter so much because she had all that cheap liquor.  It’s all about the deal, stupid.

Recently, Nancy learned that some deals can indeed be pretty stupid.

It’s stupid for Nancy to buy deals she doesn’t even want just because she believes they are too good to pass up.  Nancy has to stay within her budget and save for her retirement (or possibly a trip to Italy).

From here on out, Nancy will distance herself from the online deals and she will make better buying decisions.  This will make her feel a lot less stupid and she will have plenty of money for when she retires (in Italy?).

Hopefully all that will happen very soon so Nancy can stop writing in the third person.

The “Single” Box and the Divorce Dance

Today I met with my accountant so he can prepare my tax returns.  It was the first time that I have not filed jointly since 1989.

This was another in a series of sometimes happy, sometimes sad, but always sobering experiences to remind me that I’m no longer part of a couple.  Partner-less, you can call me single, alone, unwed, on my own, solitary, unmarried, divorced.

Divorce.  It’s a word loaded with drama, deep emotion and hard edges.  For over two decades I was on the married team.  Certainly not always happy, but part of a team nonetheless.  In recent years, I desperately wanted to leave my marriage, but had no idea what that meant until I walked — sometimes crawled — through the experience.

I’ve now been single for almost six months.  Yet, I’m not totally unmarried, either.

The untangling of a long-term marriage — both legally and emotionally – is a long, bumpy road that doesn’t travel a set path.  My experience has been a bit of a roller coaster with two steps ahead on a Friday and then a giant step back the following day.  During the worst of times, there is no moving forward and no going back: I’m simply suspended in a “no man’s land” between the past and the present.

Looking over the tax forms today, it was clear the IRS has no option for how I feel.  Forced to make a choice, I checked the single box and hoped for the best.

When I got home, I found this hysterical video and had to share it.  As you probably know from reading Dating Dementia, I cope by looking at the humor in just about everything.

Yes, even divorce.  Take a look.  Have a laugh.  Get up and dance.  Come on, do it for me.

Dementia: The Disease No One Wants to Discuss

Nobody wants to talk about dementia.  Bring up Alzheimer’s in a social setting and watch the reaction.  People squirm, they become uncomfortable, their gaze wanders, they stop making eye contact and finally they clam up like a librarian at a strip club.

Dementia affects almost everyone these days, and you would be hard pressed to find a family that isn’t coping with it in some way.  Yet people will do almost anything to avoid discussing dementia, so it remains murky and shameful.

Only a few decades ago, people were reacting the same way to cancer patients.  Cancer was whispered about in hushed tones, and patients kept their diagnosis and treatment mainly within their immediate family.  People reacted as though they could catch cancer from the patient, so it was best to simply avoid them.

Now people talk about cancer openly — about their treatment, their feelings and their probable outcome.  Why can’t we do the same with dementia?

Perhaps people are more willing to speak about cancer because medical advances have brought us to the point where many cancers are now curable or manageable.  Cancer is no longer an automatic death sentence.

Dementia, unfortunately, is a life sentence.  We all know what the outcome will be.  There is no cure and the few memory drugs available often provide temporary relief, but they cannot stop the disease from eventually progressing.

I have a history of dementia in my family: Both grandmothers, uncles & aunts, my Dad and now my Mom is in the early stages.  It’s a wicked bad disease.  I worry about what will happen as my generation of baby boomers ages, and we will undoubtedly live to be older than any subsequent generation.  Unless there is a cure or a protocol that will manage dementia, it will most certainly ruin our economy and cripple our society.

The time to start talking about dementia is now.  Let’s bring it out of the shadows.   and make it a national effort to find a cure or a way to manage this disease so we don’t cripple the next generation.

 

 

What Would Audrey Think?

I heart Audrey Hepburn.  Pretty much everything about her is just plain wonderful.  What is it about Audrey that makes me smile?

Well, her movies, of course.  While she never won an Oscar, she was was a talented actor appearing in films as varied as Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Roman Holiday and The Nun’s Story.  Check out her films on Netflix and you will be surprised on her range of films.

Her movies and style made her an icon, but being a quality person was Audrey’s biggest accomplishment.  Audrey was a very young woman when she came to Hollywood, yet she didn’t party all night at nightclubs with an entourage, get photographed without her underwear or have to do jail time.  Instead, Audrey was smart, gracious, beautiful, generous and warm.

She wasn’t perfect, but she was certainly classy.

When I read about today’s young movie stars it is usually about their bad behavior.  The headline could be: actor trashed a swanky hotel room or fading teen star accused of stealing jewelry.  The headlines change, but the bad behavior continues.  I don’t know about you, but I feel it is a total drag when someone with fame, money and privilege squanders their opportunity to do some good in the world.

Listen up bad boy/girl actors: Take a page from Audrey’s playbook.  Start making good decisions about how to live your lives and you might start feeling better about yourself.

Eating Cereal Three Times a Day, Won’t Keep the Carbs Away

One of my New Year’s resolutions is to eat more lean protein and fewer carbohydrates.

Surprisingly, I’ve been pretty successful in cutting out crackers, pasta, breads, cookies, cakes and all the other sugar goodies that I really love.

To avoid temptation, I have emptied my house of starchy carbs — especially the artificial sweets.  I even purged the stuff I would normally never eat, like the plain milk chocolate bite-size candy bars left over from Halloween (I’m a dark chocolate kind of gal, but you probably knew that already) and the oatmeal raisin cookies in my bottom of my freezer (a Christmas gift from someone who obviously doesn’t know me very well).  Cleaning out my pantry, I found a box of biscotti, which promptly went in the trash because biscotti mostly tastes like old cardboard.  Sorry, biscotti fans.

While I’ve cut down on the carbs, I can’t give up my cereal and milk.  It wouldn’t be so bad if I limited my cereal intake to breakfast. But, sadly, I have fallen into a deep, seemingly bottomless bowl of a habit that can go from dawn til night.

I have my first serving (Kashi GOLEAN) around 8 a.m. with hot tea, the LA Times and The Today Show.  Kashi makes great products and this particular cereal has an impressive 13 grams of protein and 10 grams of fiber.  It looks really gnarly (seriously) but GOLEAN tastes terrific — and it’s more filling than many other cereals.  Kashi pays me nothing to promote its products.  But, just in case Mr. & Mrs. Kashi are reading, I would be totally open to receiving a few cases of free cereal.

Obviously, I can be bought — for as little as seven whole grains.

As my typical day progresses, I can be found blogging and working diligently in my office.  By 10:30ish I’m starting to feel faint because blogging can be surprisingly strenuous.

Here is where my carb-reduction plan can completely unravel.

If I do not have any snacks handy — and fast — I will pour another bowl of Kashi. Why?  Simple: It’s easy, delicious and I love it.  I find cereal highly comforting and predictable.  Best of all, my cereal choices always taste the same: Yummy.

Around noon, I manage to cobble together a lunch and I can usually (but not always) make it to dinner without breaking out yet another cereal bowl.

My next carb challenge is right before bedtime.  I absolutely have to have a snack before I go to bed.  A piece of chicken or a cheese stick is the obvious good choice, right?  Yet, what do I crave more than anything?  You guessed it, more cereal, especially Grape Nuts or Product 19, another two long-time favorites.

If someone from Post or Kellogg’s is reading, please note that I will entertain pretty much any and all cereal bribes.  I am basically a cereal whore, so call me and we’ll make a deal.  Throw in some coupons and you won’t regret it.

My goal this week is to titrate down my cereal intake.  I started off Monday with two bowls and then Tuesday I allowed myself only one.  Wednesday back to two and today a single bowlful.  After a week, I will try to stabilize at one bowl a day.  It’s sort of like weaning off meds — not a pleasant process.  I don’t kid myself that I can give up cereal completely, but I’d be happy at this point to reduce it to a manageable level.

However, should Kashi, Post or Kellogg’s call me, then all bets are off.

Maybe Tonight I’ll Dream of the Everly Brothers

Last night I repeated the mantra: “I will have pleasant dreams and remember them upon waking,” and this time it worked like a charm.  That’s the good news.  The not-so-great part is that my dream — which involved two dear friends — was not so charming.

In my real life, one friend is coming to visit this weekend and the other will be staying with me later this month.

While I’ve known these pals for more than three decades (ouch!) neither one has ever met the other.  I’m probably the only thing they have in common.  But that should be more than enough, right?

Back to the dream.  Evidently, I got the days mixed up on the visits and both friends arrived at my house on the very same day.  Well, not really my house, since in dream land I resided in an incredible chalet-style home which appeared to be located in the breathtaking Colorado Rockies.  Not bad.

What was bad, was the fact that my friends obviously felt I was being careless with their friendship.  I hadn’t taken the time to remember their visit, and they were none too pleased with me.  For most of the dream, I went back and forth between bedrooms apologizing and trying to make amends.  Nothing seemed to placate them and I remember crying with frustration.  I woke up feeling upset — with myself.

I’ll keep trying the mantra, but tonight I’m going to place special emphasis on the “pleasant dreams” part.

If you read me frequently, you will know that I love music.  Here’s a dreamy song from The Everly Brothers: All I have to do is Dream…oh, and Cathy’s Clown, too.  Doesn’t get much better, does it?  Happy dreams.

I’m in Love and Her Name is Mac

You certainly couldn’t call it love at first sight.  Our initial meeting was nothing to write home about.  While I liked Mac’s sleek look, compactness and overall vibe, she was with a “I’m way cooler than you” all-male entourage and that was a total turn off.

I left thinking she was a bit of an snob and possibly an airhead to boot.

Yet we all know first impressions can be deceiving, so I decided to give her a second chance.   Yesterday morning I met Mac for coffee, and we spent an amazing hour getting to know each other — quite intimately, I might add.  I left head-over-heals in love.

Honestly, I’m as surprised as anyone.

Let me back up and tell you how this love story happened.  Tired of surfing with outmoded models, I decided I was willing to do or pay anything to connect with my perfect partner.

I didn’t want to use a dating site or hang out in a bar.  Instead, I opted for the old fashioned way — asking friends for advice.  They know me well and could make rational recommendations about a good partner based on my personality, needs and desires.  Yes, even women in their mid-50s have desires.  Loads of them, actually.  Pay attention here and you could learn a lot.

Many friends told me to play it safe and go with a proven choice — they said making a mistake would be too costly and I had best stick with what I know.

On the surface, it sounded like good advice, but do I really want to play it safe anymore? Wasn’t it time to strike out and fulfill my desires by charting an entirely new course?

I consulted more friends and a handful stressed that while the price tag might be high, finding a fun, charismatic and dependable partner who could easily travel life with me would be worth it.  After all, I wanted a partner who was a trail-blazer.  A model partner  with the goal of helping me succeed and thrive in my life.  Most importantly, the perfect partner would fulfill my many desires.  Yes, back to the desires.

Someone I trusted implicitly told me, “You have to meet Mac.  She lives in a store at the mall.  I’ll arrange it.”

I agreed.

Mac was different from those I’ve dated in the past.  Rather than hefty, staid and a bit slow on the uptake, she is trendy, lightening-fast and a featherweight.  I think we are destined to be together.

In fact, my little Mac has already asked me if I might be willing to change my last name to Apple.  I’m not ruling it out at this point: Mac and Nancy Apple does have a nice ring to it.

Nat King Cole and his rendition of When I fall in Love really captures my feelings about my new relationship, so listen here.  And remember, you too can chart a new course that will fulfill your desires.

I Have a Dream. Now If I Could Just Remember It!

Earlier this week, I wrote about dreams and the fact that I seldom remember any of mine.  I’m curious about why I don’t and what I can do to recall my night- time cognitive wanderings.

Nothing has really changed, but I’m hopeful that I’ll have some good dreams to share very soon.  A girlfriend who read my post suggested I speak an intention every night before going to bed.  Something like, “I will sleep well tonight. I’ll have pleasant dreams and when I wake up I’ll remember what I was dreaming.”

Sounds easy enough.  I tried it last night, but no go.  I got plenty of beauty sleep, and lord knows I need that, but nary a dream was captured upon waking.  Maybe next week.

So I’m curious, what do you dream about?  Comment and let me know…Happy dreams!

Splish, Splash: I’m Stayin Out of My Ex’s Bath

My Dating Dementia posts of the past few days have really hit a chord with my friends and readers.  Many called and emailed leaving messages of ‘atta girl’ and ‘you showed him, baby!’ and “next time bring champagne!”

Yesterday, I believed my little escapade of bathing in my ex-husband’s bathtub (without his knowledge or consent) was simply the result of not having access to a comfy tub to relieve my sore back.

At the time, I considered it a romp and a good laugh.  Or was there more behind it?

Upon further reflection I’ve unearthed a plethora of feelings — sadness for a life I left behind, relief that I’m moving forward, anger that I allowed myself to be pushed out of my home and uncertainty about what the future holds.

Divorce takes a very, very long time to heal.  Over the past 18 months, I’ve moved through emotional stages that I never knew existed.  Yesterday’s bath was most certainly mixed with anger and regret — as well as a touch of revenge.  I don’t like to admit it, but perhaps it was even a middle finger gesture directed at my former husband.

I won’t lie.  It felt good, and I did enjoy myself.  Yet, I think my clandestine bathtub soaking days have come to an end.  Yeah, I’m finally ready for the feelings to subside and to begin to live the life that only I can create.  Please come back and read my blog to find out what type of life it turns out to be….