....Speaking of getting older, I pulled a muscle in my neck yawning.
My face afterward was probably pretty funny. "Did that actually just happen?"
I've been having a hard time with the acceptance of getting older.
It comes in bits.
When you look in the mirror and say, "That can't be right..."
Also, when you are invited to a Halloween party and the theme is pop culture... I have no idea what pop culture is in 2017. So old. All I got was "Look What You Made Me Do", Taylor Swift. That idea is the top one on The Google for Halloween ideas, so that's out. I got nothin'.
I realized in volleyball this past week that I truly am the oldest I have ever been. I am just going to get older, too! I know. Crazy, right? I thought I was invincible- like it just wouldn't happen to me... until I was about fifty or sixty. Not so. I have never felt that I aged a decade between volleyball seasons, except for this time. While I used to dive for digs and at least get to the ball, the movement of the ball didn't even register in my mind until it hit the floor. Now, if it's too far and I deem it to be unattainable, I just say, "That's a good serve", while I stay in the exact same spot. We had a laugh about our hearing this time. Someone heard "appendix" out of no where, so now that's what we yell when we can't hear or when anyone gets confused. Also, "side effects" was mistaken for something, meaning we are all on medications already, pretty much.
At least laughing about it will always help. Aging is inevitable, difficult- more so when you see it in your family members... but it is also pretty funny. Humbling.
I'm so damn tired. It's Monday morning and I already want to take a nap. Remember the "student nap pose"- resting your head on your hand, to make it look like you were reading? Yeah, that was my favorite. I may pull that off today at work. However, with this trick, you really need to be mindful of the vicious head bob that gives you away. And it also scares the shit out of you.
When has the awareness of your own aging hit you? Leave it in the comments below!
Have a Silly Monday,
Lisa
Leading Lady
There is something good that comes from watching TV, no matter what people say. Here's one reason: Whenever I am going through something difficult- whether it be an embarrassing incident or a downright heartbreak- I think of the leading ladies in sitcoms and how this situation would play out in a half hour comedy.
Mindy and Jess are always able to shrug something off and let it go. Move on and pay it no mind. This idea kind of puts things into perspective. It helps me to, anyway. It aids in looking at any situation with humor-even something that is devastating at the present moment. They also can make fun of the situation, and of themselves, aware of their faults and defects. (I have always had the same reaction as Mindy when someone pokes fun at me for one of my faults. "Alright", being the reaction, in the tone of complete self-awareness and self-love as well. The twelve year old who made fun of me because I got scared from a really stupid horror movie. "Alright." Smile. I am well aware of that defect, but that one may never change completely.... I'm fine with it. Moving on. It is a great response showing self-acceptance, I think.)
The norm for a sitcom is misunderstanding as humor. When things get turned around and misconstrued is when it gets good. Monica, Rachel, or Phoebe never played into people not knowing the real truth- they just accepted it and moved on. I think of that episode where Rachel is trying to woo Josh and everything gets discombobulated, and she opens the door in a wedding dress, emanating the misconception in the entire episode. She just shuts the door and says, "Well, that oughta do it." She knows he thinks she's crazy and believes a situation that is entirely false, but lets it go anyway and carries on with her day.
Also, whenever I feel down on myself, am being impatient with myself, or maybe I'm completely fudging up a project or something, I always say to myself, "Come the fuck on, Bridget" (from Bridget Jone's Diary). You have to do it in a British accent. It works. It takes the anxiety and the deflation out of the problem. Makes everything lighter. Maybe that's just the accent, though.
When you really get stuck, let's not forget the dinner scene in The Holiday. "In the movies, there's a leading lady and the best friend. You are the leading lady, I can tell, but for some reason, you're behaving like the best friend."
"You're right. You are supposed to be the leading lady of your own life for God's sake."
Putting yourself in the role of your favorite sitcom lady makes the big things a little less scary and shrinks them to a manageable size. Perspective. Sometimes circumstances are so ridiculous. Life throws you wrench after wrench, and it all seems so absurd... When you think to yourself, "Am I actually dealing with this in my life as a 37 yr old? This is preposterous." Think of Lucy, Laverne, Shirley- whoever your ladies are. Put it in a sitcom and move on.
Whatever it is, it usually makes for a good story, too.
Have a Silly Monday,
Lisa
A Day at the Beach
So, out here in west Michigan, weekends are obviously beach days. The problem is that they are beach days for EVERYONE and their mother, so parking is a hassle. Why they don't expand parking for the big beaches, I have no idea. It's ridiculous.
It's a timing game. I went from the biggest beach out here, which could easily fit everyone in the surrounding cities on the actual beach, but of course the minuscule parking lot was full, to a smaller beach with only six parking spots and I found a spot. Crazy. It's just timing.
So, in my constant search for a beach with parking, I decided to go to one I've never been to yet. It said online that it was secluded, which would be nice. I packed up all my stuff, headed out, and found the last spot in a lot of about five available. So, I grabbed my chair, cooler, roller bag stuffed with blankets, Kindle, writing pad, and set out. This was different. There was a dune. I mean, an actual dune. Not just a sandy hill like we see most times around here.
In passing, I saw stairs going up on my left and a beautiful sandy trail going down to my right. So, I chose right. Why would I go up when I want to get down to the beach? I found out. Going down the dune was not as bad as going up would be, sure, but it was pretty steep and carrying all this stuff, I definitely gave a father and son playing catch at the bottom some very unattractive views. Anyway, better than the stairs! Wasn't so bad.
I get out to the beach and turn around to see where I just came from because there's no way I can climb the dune on the way back. I look at the flights of steps. Freaking Machu Picchu. Aw geeze. I did not pack appropriately for this. I looked around at the very popular beach (can't be that secluded if it's online, right? Where the hell did all these people park?), and everyone only has their towels. No coolers, chairs, bags, etc. Ha! This is going to be fun getting back to my car. My bad. Well, at least I'll be here for a while.
I always think that if I wake up early to fight the parking situation that I'll sleep on the beach. This is never the case. Then I'm just tired, cranky, and irritable at the beach. For example, why is it that people have to be right on top of you? Numerous times people have touched their blankets to my blankets. Their bags or flip flops ON my blanket. Too close. Back off. We are strangers, in bathing suits no less, not best buds. So strange, right? It's like close-talkers, but everyone's practically naked, so it's way more invasive. It's like when my mom goes to a movie (she's like 3ft tall) and the tallest guy always sits in front of her, even though there is a myriad of empty seats. With me, it's the intrusive beach bums, always screaming at their kids or loud eaters. Every time. There is room. I usually look around at all the available sand in an exaggerated way for these intruders to take notice. Then I reach awareness that I am irritated at the beach. I hate that. A day at the beach is supposed to be "a day at the beach".
I moved once. I couldn't take the chomping and screaming. There goes my nap. The lady actually put her feet on my blanket right by my face. Ugh! I was here first!! I had to move.
But all in all, beautiful chill time. As long as I didn't want to leave yet.
Then it was time. The Climb. Carrying all my shit, I looked like a packed mule. I took some breaks along the way. I felt better as 20 somethings were huffing and puffing too. Good, this is normal. Except for that couple, so obviously still in their wooing phase, that was RUNNING up the steps. I don't think I ever thought such foul thoughts about anyone. Someone should trip 'em.
As I'm trucking, my bag that was tucked inside my other bags tipped from my meticulous pack job on my back and poured out a stream of tampons. This stream slinkied down the steps, but also sprayed to the sides on the actual dune. A little boy asked his mom what they were. Only me. I had to go down the damn steps, collect my embarrassing belongings, and then GO BACK UP the damn steps.
Now, I'm pretty active. I play softball, volleyball, and do yoga, advanced-dancer-Zumba twice a week, with weights. I do my resistance training and walk all the time. There is a treadmill in my office. This was just not my forte is all. I have always hated the step machine at the gym. I also really hate running. I hear that most women with boobs do. And spinning- my crotch hurt for a week. I think you just have to accept what you like to do for exercise and what kinds hate your private parts. I did not like stepping. But hey, at least I don't have to work out for the rest of the weekend now...
I got to my car and I was dripping. Panting, I passed some cutie-pa-tootie heading in. Of course. I loaded up and pulled out of the lot. Every car along the woods leading in to the area had a ticket. This parking situation is for the birds. My invaders for sure got a ticket, since they got there so late. I felt guilty for this little evil pleasure, so when I passed the cop still writing tickets I gave him some stink eye. We beach parkers still need to stick together.
I went straight to the ice cream place and got lemon frozen yogurt in a cone. I don't think it defeated the purpose of ALL the steps...
The next few days my ass and hamstrings were tighter than my bathing suit. Ow.
But still, so worth it, our Great Lakes.
I hope this Labor Day Monday is a day at the beach for all of you!
Lisa
Driving Without Brakes
So, this just happened. During a crazy chaotic week, I found myself driving without brakes. Yes, the irony was not lost on me. God is telling me to slow my life the bleep down (because He probably doesn't curse like me).
The day before, I had gone for an oil change, and everything was fine. The next day, I found myself with no pressure when I broke, my foot all the way down to the floor. I pulled into the same oil place about the time my brakes went completely nil and asked what was happening, since my fluid was checked. The guys would not let me leave. Both brake lines were shot and I had no fluid. So, in searching for tow trucks on my phone that has low battery and trying to figure out the nearest mechanic that would now be closed, how to get home, and being forced to take the next day off work (I call car troubles Single Gal Strong), these nice boys said they would help me if I waited until they closed the shop and move over to the next parking lot. Oh my goodness! Are you kidding?! That's amazing.
This was after Zumba. I swear, all my car troubles happen when I am in my Zumba gear. Last time I was stranded in the middle of a left turn on a busy cross street, with people honking at me like idiots, got towed and had to ride in spandex feeling very naked with some hillbilly driver side eyeing me the whole time. This time it was laundry day Zumba gear- even worse. Laundry day Zumba gear is not the cute Barbie workout gear we all don- I mean, camel-toe and all. You know, those pants that find crevices that just shouldn't be visible to other humans. Maybe the advertised crevices were why they offered to help, though...
So, I am sweating out of everywhere, starving, on my period without a bathroom, and waiting for these nice angels to close up so that they can sacrifice their night working on my car. My car is loaded like I'm a hoarder because life is busy and messy. I also had no cash on me to give them.
I bought pizza from next door, since none of us had dinner. There goes Zumba. Sometimes, life just makes you eat pizza.
They brought me brake fluid, but needed some parts, so I had to get in this young kid's car and ride nervously while he showed off and drove like an asshole to the store. I felt safe with these two, but I'll tell ya, the female caution tape is automatic and can be ridiculous. I was just aware of it, that's all. It wasn't that bright yellow in my head until my aunt expressed concern over the phone and made me fight some insistent paranoia. Did this place do this yesterday somehow? Was this some sort of scam? The one guy was left alone with my keys and could make a copy-they already have my address... Now I was in a car screaming down the streets with some stranger. He then knew my credit card number as well. When we got back, it was a different situation then the safety I felt before. It was pitch black, the pizza place next door had closed and turned their lights off. It was just me and two dudes in a parking lot next to the woods. Dammit. When they started talking about something else wrong with the car, I let my concern come out a minute and said, I just need to get home. When I drove off, with brakes, one of the guys said to have a blessed night. It made me smile and relax.
It's funny, this world we live in. It's a different world depending on your sex, for sure. These good Samaritans were just that, good. They were a blessing, and the instinct women have is to be overly cautious to the point of paranoia. Maybe it's my upbringing, Detroit logic, or whatever, but it is part of my psyche, whether I like it or not. I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing. It's been both for me. My instincts have definitely saved me in certain situations. But I always feel guilty when it goes the other way- when the universe sends me love and I question it.
So, I went back the next day and gave them my card and cash for all their help. There are good people in the world. I was so relieved and it was so much more painless than dealing with the normal breakdown Single Gal Strong. I told them if they ever opened up their own shop I would be their #1 PR pro. Ladies need trustworthy mechanics. We even might exchange business, as they need a photographer.
They said to have a blessed day again.
So, what did I learn? Brakes. Slow down. Thoughts are racing, that yellow caution tape, To-Do lists, schedule, life... Slow down. You need brakes.
Also, I need to throw those pants out.
Silly Monday to everyone,
Lisa
Grams is on Facebook
I have a big-ass Italian family. So many cousins, great-grandkids, aunts, uncles, and so forth. The grandkids all chipped in to get Grandma an Ipad one Christmas a few years back, for games and whatnot. I didn't know exactly who would be taking responsibility to help her with technology, but it made me laugh picturing it. I live two and a half hours away, so I was out.
A while after this, my parents, sister, brother-in-law, and the kids were up north at the cottage and we found out that Grams is on Facebook! How cute! This should be fun. She asked to friend my sister. My mom. So, I wait and wait... Nothing. Hours go by. Huh. My own sweet little Catholic Italian grandmother did not ask to be my friend. What's worse-- she knew we were all up north together! I swear. There's nothing like family to make you feel amazing. Ha ha!!!
I actually found all of this very cute and funny. I did wonder which shitty cousin of mine was helping her with Facebook. Ha!
So, I get into my work week and go to post photos on my business page on Facebook a few days later. Huh. Still nothing from Grams. "Alright, what the hell?" I thought, while laughing out loud. Old people and technology-- especially your family members-- it's just always a good time. So, I sent the request to friend her. Nothing. Three more days go by.
So, I had to make fun of this and posted something. ONLY THEN did my grams respond ever so sweetly and innocently. Apparently, it had something to do with a battery or whatever.
My cousins had a field day with this one. It's just ironic, because she tells me all the time that I'm her favorite.
It was funny to me.
Do you have a funny debasing family story? Tell me in the comments!
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Monday Sillies. Have a good day!
Lisa