I turned 51 on Wednesday. It was a much quieter birthday than last year; rather than spend my day on a plane headed for paradise I spent much of my day on the couch watching “90 Day Fiance.” Yes, seriously. Anyway, at my age I have a mental list of general life grievances that is growing just like it’s supposed to as we get older. I thought I’d make a list (not all-inclusive; that’s impossible) here so that when I’m still definitely blogging in ten years I can look back at 61 and think to myself, “Oh dear; I was so adorable back then!” Here are just a few things…
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Check Yourself.
I came up with an amazing idea the other night after Jim and I enjoyed an evening at the theater. As we slowly worked our way towards the door to exit the building, we had to continually halt our pace and switch directions to avoid running into the folks who decided it was okay to stop and chat directly in the path of thousands of people who just wanted to get home. It was the worst, of course, right outside the doors on the sidewalk. My idea? Install moving sidewalks in all of those public places where this happens on a regular basis. Okay, I know my idea is ridiculous…
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Live From the Cheap Seats
Last week we went to a blues concert here in town. The concert was good, but not my favorite. No offense to the artist who shall remain unnamed here; part of my problem is that the venue was standing room only and that is one of my least favorite things in the world: I need that chair behind me. Even if I’m going to stand for hours at a concert I love–like Foo Fighters–I am mentally more comfortable knowing that I have the option to sit in a chair for a few minutes if I need to. At the concert last week we took the recommendation of a friend and…
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This Is (My) Fifty.
Today is my 50th birthday. I won’t lie: I am having a little trouble with this. This past week I have been filled with a strange type of upset and a little bit of panic that crashed into me out of nowhere. This “mini crisis” isn’t about anything related to my life itself. I have nothing to complain about (to say the least); the source of all of this is literally the number, and I am mostly surprised that I feel this way…but in a way, I’m not. I was one of those kids who did the math to learn that I would be thirty-two years old in the year…
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This is Forty-Nine.
Today I turn forty-nine, and I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around that. But then...
