Labor Day has passed, signaling the end of summer’s leisurely pursuits. It’s time to get organized for autumn. So, I’m clearing the deck – and my inbox – for a fresh season of writing. And from that inbox, here are a few tidbits that I didn’t develop into full-fledged stories, but still, are designed to amuse! From Kardashians to musical buffalo and the disappearance of our e-signatures for purchases … I hereby opine!
Number 1:
First a question: Would someone … please, please, please … explain America’s fascination with the Kardashians? Read more
https://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/treadmill.png334547Karen Galatzhttps://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/kg-logo.pngKaren Galatz2018-08-29 08:01:372018-08-28 12:58:41T is for Torture and Treadmill
It’s summertime, and I’m exhausted. I cannot keep up the pace.
Summer used to be about relaxing and taking a break from usual routines.
Summer used to be about vacations and long, lazy days at the beach.
Summer used to be about suntans and sunburns. Over-chlorinated swimming pools and bring-tears-to your-eyes salty water ocean waves. About letting the mind wander and go free, watching the clouds and the waves.
The TV got a rest. There were too many reruns. Instead, there were summer book reads. Trashy novels for middle-aged moms (and dads). Required book lists for the kids.
But not this summer. Not for our family, and I bet, not for yours. Read more
https://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/shutterstock_1100617133.jpg390650Karen Galatzhttps://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/kg-logo.pngKaren Galatz2018-08-22 09:00:442018-08-22 09:00:44Summertime and the Living is Exhausting
A famous psychological study developed 36 questions to fast-track intimacy and connection. Ha! That’s easy. A glass of cheap merlot and low lighting can do that for most people. But lasting love? Well, that requires a whole different set of questions.
And to help with that, from the vantage point of a middle-aged many-years married, I’ve prepared a list of nine queries young lovers should consider before saying their “I do’s.” Read more
https://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/shutterstock_1113843215-3.jpg5221176Karen Galatzhttps://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/kg-logo.pngKaren Galatz2018-08-15 08:05:172024-07-18 10:17:49Nine Questions for Lasting Love
For the record: I’m no coffee connoisseur. I drink lattes because they satisfy my two chief criteria for coffee – lots of milk and lots of room for sugar. But recently, I met the barista of my dreams. Now I’m caffeinated and infatuated.
The day I met my new love, I was in that early morning pre-coffee kind of stupor. Slow moving and slow thinking, I practically bumped into this stunning, towering cool creator of caffeine and other bubbling hot delights. I was instantly overwhelmed. Read more
https://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/coffee-beans-2538526_1920.png422650Karen Galatzhttps://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/kg-logo.pngKaren Galatz2018-08-08 08:05:082024-07-18 10:16:24Caffeinated and Infatuated. The Barista of My Dreams
There’s surfing danger ahead! Not in the water, but online. Take a quick look at an ad for an anti-aging skin cream, and that product will haunt you on the Internet until you die and decompose.
Blink your eye and consider a brief fling with glitter eyeliner, as I did earlier this summer, and you are forever branded as part of David Bowie’s glam squad!
Peruse a winter white wool turtleneck sweater in January, and come July, you’ll still get urgent notices to “Hurry, there’s only one still in stock!!”
Five years ago, amid a foot problem, I considered buying orthotic heel lifts. Thankfully, the foot problem resolved itself, but orthotic ads track me on the Worldwide Web as diligently as sharks stalk their prey. Read more
There comes a time in every girl’s life when she puts away her dolls and moves on to grown-up pleasures. For most girls, that comes with puberty. For me, it took a few more years. OK. It took an extra half-century.
Yes, for 50+ years, I’ve kept a massive black steamer trunk full of dolls, ostensibly saving them “for my children,” but truthfully mostly just saving them.
I’m a sentimental type, a saver. OK. I’m a bit of a bit of a hoarder. Read more
The other day, on a whim, I decided to buy myself a fancy silver necklace. I’ve never bought myself expensive jewelry before. When it came to the good stuff, the big bling-y, sparkling stuff, that arrived as gifts from parents, boyfriends, and for the past 32 years, Handsome Hubby.
But I was in the mood for instant gratification. I wanted the necklace right then and there. I didn’t feel like “hinting” and waiting for HH. I’m a big girl – more than a big girl, I’m middle-aged and – by God, I can buy my own bling!
So, faster than you can say “discretionary spending,” off I went on my mission to find that perfect piece of jewelry. What I got was something entirely different! Read more
Remember when the kids were little and you had family game night? Well, my live-at-home 26-year-old and I still play games together. More specifically, we play one game each week. More specific still, we play the same “talkin’ trash” game every Monday night. We play “Will he or won’t he … take out the trash?”
It’s a fun game. You may even play it at your house. There are set rules to it. It’s predictable – except for the outcome which makes my hair and blood-pressure rise. Read more
https://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/Trash-2.jpg488650Karen Galatzhttps://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/kg-logo.pngKaren Galatz2018-06-27 08:05:392018-10-05 11:41:34Talkin’ Trash: The Games Families Play
It’s that time of year when I’m forced to schedule my annual embarrassing doctor’s appointment. You’re thinking mammogram and pap smear. But no, I suffer from another repeating ordeal, SVD, Seasonal Vanity Disorder, a hush-hush, but common mid-life ailment.
Each June, I’m forced to hot foot it to the doctor to get a prescription for prescription-strength allergy-relief medication to soothe my itchy swollen eyelids, blotchy, splotchy derma, and yes, even my hot feet!
“Ah, seasonal allergies,” you surmise and sympathize.
Well, thank you for the sympathy, but you’re wrong about what ails me. Read more
