Life in Reno has been a series of personal plagues. Although not quite of Biblical proportions, for whining, wimpy, mere mortal me, they’ve been epic, loathsome, and alarmingly nonstop. Read more
Saturday morning in bed. Handsome Hubby turned to me with that warm, brown-eyed, loving look that usually signals one of two things—he wants to get frisky, or he’s hot for hotcakes and bacon. But not this weekend. The man, a constant source of surprises, said, “Baby, it’s happening in Fallon. Cantaloupe! Big time. Cantaloupe. Let’s get moving.” Read more
I’m suffering through an identity crisis, no longer young, not quite old. It’s tough. Now, however, it appears my spam folder is confused too, littered with scams across a checkered demographic wasteland. I get sexy stuff. I get old age stuff. Who am I? And if I am my spam, I’m more befuddled than ever! Read more
Oh, my! You know you’ve reached a certain age when you need an easy-access file folder for miscellaneous funeral planning. You know, a to-die-for to-do list. Read more
Attention, non-sports fans. I’ve got a sports story even you will like!
It starts with Handsome Hubby, of course.
My poor man! He was oh, so sad because I would not shell out $174,000 for (an almost courtside) ticket to watch the Knicks and the Spurs duke it out in the NBA Finals at Madison Square Garden.
But then, Wednesday night, he watched the first game of the Finals in San Antonio and spied a group of super die-hard fans — the “Spurs nuns” cheering on the hometown team. Now, Handsome Hubby has questions, many questions. Read more
Pizza acrobatics, the waning popularity of greeting cards, a last name that’s 666 letters long, and my latest lament about life in Reno! It’s all a little random, a little silly, just a little this and that in the middle of a long week. Read more
While most eyes were focused on the Met Gala this week, I just couldn’t relate. Instead, I found my people, my tribe if you will, further afield in a remote corner of Ethiopia. There I found a people who “get me.” The tribe is the Bodi, and each year, they host an elaborate ritual celebrating the fattest in their village. Read more
Handsome Hubby was off traveling, and I was lonely for my man. What’s a girl to do? Well, left to my own devices, resourceful me found a device! And an app, too!
I have a reputation as cool. I dress cool, you know, torn jeans and crop tops. I listen to — and like — rap music, and when my husband asks, “Who’s that guy?” about the latest musical guest on Saturday Night Live, I always know. (Well, almost always know.) And my writing students at the local university journalism school give me rave reviews as “understanding,” “helpful,” and “fun.” Read more
It’s mid-March, and I’m in the middle of multiple muddles … all of which strangely begin with the letter “S” … sleep, spending, and scents.
First, I completed my monthlong No Personal Spending pledge. Hooray and hurrah! I did it. More precisely, I didn’t do it.
I make not one single impulse purchase during the entire month! No red Keds, no silly snow cone-scented(!) earrings, and no new dreamy, buttery soft sheets in buttery yellow.
It was surprisingly difficult to keep my wallet in my pants (a-hum) and my finger off the “buy now” online purchase button, but I succeeded. It was a fascinating exercise in self-control, one shop-aholic me sorely needed.
For a long time, as in years, I’ve been telling myself that I don’t do that much impulse shopping, that I don’t spend that much time online shopping, and that I don’t spend that much on frivolous little purchases, but I have to tell you that the end-of-the-month credit card statement tells a different tale.
You can read about my No Personal Spending Pledge journey here.
I’m on Week 4 of my Inspire-d sleep apnea device journey. As regular readers of this blog may recall, I have sleep apnea big time. Yet, I cannot tolerate wearing that infernal CPAP mask. So, on December 8, I had the Inspire sleep apnea device surgically implanted. The device stimulates the tongue muscle during sleep, which prevents it from blocking the airway.
Six weeks after the surgery, I was “turned on.” More precisely, the device was turned on. Each week, I increase the strength … the frequency … (the whatever) of the tongue-darting implant does. (Aren’t I the tech-savvy one?)
Inspire “seems” to be helping. It’s too early for me to offer you a full-throated (full-tongued?) endorsement, but I do seem to be sleeping a little longer and a bit better. I’m not bouncing around, wrapped in full-on energy and joy, but I’ve got a grip on my over-eating, one of my big bad “tells” for being tired. And also, in the interest of embarrassing but full disclosure, Handsome Hubby, who alleges I snore (I hotly deny this, of course), says I am sleeping/breathing quietly, which is good for both of us.
So, fingers crossed, maybe this sleep apnea device will offer sleep salvation!
For some, Spring heralds the start of allergy season. For others, like me, the entire year is a sneeze/itch-a-thon.
One of my most tedious allergies is to fragrances. It’s a shame. I used to love perfume, but for decades, I have become increasingly sensitive to smells. It’s now so bad that I get instantaneous headaches when I walk through makeup counters in department stores.
Worse yet, if I sit next to someone in a theater or a lecture who’s wearing perfume, I start itching, and my head starts pounding. Just this month, that’s happened twice! Both times we had to change seats.
So, ladies — and gentlemen — please be sensitive to scent sensitivities. If you’re going to attend an event where you’ll be in proximity to others, please consider the possibility of allergies. I know it’s a bummer to forgo perfume if you love it.
My late mother was a perfume queen. I cannot imagine how she would have felt if I had to tell her to skip the spritz! But still, I know she would have been kind.
Anyway, that’s my story — at least so far this month. Gosh, I really am Muddling through Middle Age these days!