Laments About Midlife Romance

Two Kinds of Women

Says Who? Let's Change the Rules

two kinds of women

Society has always deemed there were two kinds of women — the virgin and the whore. Harsh, simplistic distinctions — happily, not worthy of our times and values. As for me, I’ve had my own standards for evaluating people — women in particular. Follow along and see if you think my “two kinds of women” standards are an improvement on those former, outmoded labels. Read more

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Social Distancing for Spouses

I'll Go North. You Go South

Social Distancing for couples

Shelter at home is the order of the day. Social distancing is the medically recommended norm when outside. Now, for marital harmony, I believe we urgently need a directive advocating social distancing for spouses INSIDE the home. Read more

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Party Hearty? Hardly!

Life of the Party? Not Me. No More.

party hearty

Remember the good old days when we all could party hearty? Now, middle-aged Handsome Hubby and I hardly ever party!

It’s not that we’re anti-social. It’s just that Read more

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A parting of the ways

I'm the one getting scalped!

Parting of the ways

Handsome Hubby and I are coming to a parting of the ways. Sad, but true. After 33 years (and three years of dating), HH wanted a change and a change he’s made. I pleaded and I begged but to no avail. There’s no turning back. Read more

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Divided Loyalties

East Coast. West Coast. Where Do I Belong?

Divided Loyalties

I’m suffering a bad case of divided loyalties. Tony Bennett sang of leaving his heart in San Francisco, but me? My heart is divided. Half is in the SF Bay; the other half is in NYC. It’s complicated and it’s confusing. Read more

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Ashes into Diamonds

They're Not Kidding. Diamonds Really are Forever

ashes to diamonds

Diamonds are forever. So goes the old marketing slogan. But now, thanks to high tech advances, there’s a whole new spin on the meaning of “forever,” because companies can turn your deceased loved one’s cremated ashes into sparkling memorial diamonds.

All it takes is eight ounces of ashes – or if you prefer, 10 ounces of cremated bones, or a mere 0.4 ounces of hair.

Some call it science. But to me, it more voodoo than I love you. Read more

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21 Signs You’re Getting Older

21 signs you're getting older

I mostly celebrate my age — 65 —but I admit some aspects of aging aren’t joyful. Here’s my list of 21 signs you’re getting older. Check it out. See what you’d add!

You know you’re getting older when …
…. You go to a rock concert and your friends pass around earplugs instead of drugs.

You know you’re getting older when … Read more

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Single-Use Devices. Salvation or Sin?

Or How Rambo Came to Rule My Roost

Single-Use Devices

For most people, culinary single-use devices like strawberry hullers and cherry pitters are handy time-savers. But for cooking-klutz me, they are mostly cabinet space-stealing clutter, rarely, if ever, used.

I’ve got ceramic pie weights to hold crust down and fancy cake pans in graduated sizes. The former was bought in a moment of wild baking optimism. Yet, I’ve never even opened the package they came in. The latter, I used once to disastrous results.

But in my household, the undisputed master of wasted single-use devices is
– drum roll, please – Read more

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Butt Cheeks and Botox

Is Twerkers' Compensation Far Behind?

butt cheeks and botox

No ifs, ands or butt cheeks about it. Ladies, we have a new beauty regime to get on top of. Well, technically speaking, one we’ve got to get to the bottom of. Yes, gal pals, our rear ends are the latest beauty frontier!

What’s good for the face – cleansers, toners, serums, oils, exfoliating scrubs, creams, and masks – is now being specially tailored and marketed for the derriere.

Don’t believe me? Well, no less an authority than the august New York Times has proclaimed, “Butt skincare is definitely a thing now.”

“But what kind of a “thing?” you well might ask. “And why?” Read more

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Whale-Watching Whoops

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

Whale-watching Whoops

It seemed like such a good idea. “Let’s sign up for a whale-watching boating adventure,” I said gamely to Handsome Hubby, knowing he would be thrilled.

Amazingly San Francisco’s Oceanic Society had openings for Labor Day – just four days later. Who could believe our good fortune? And faster than you can say “Moby Dick,” I made our reservation.

“Ahoy, matey!” I cheered. Read more

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