Getting Old Sucks

This is how pathetic my  life has become now that I’m over forty…okay, way over forty. In my younger days, before the need for wrinkle creams and hormone patches, I’d get attention from men. But back then, I hated it. Whenever I’d walk down the street and some creep in a construction truck would gawk and holler, I’d get grossed out, look down and sprint  on past. But now things have changed. Men don’t gawk anymore. And the only time they holler is if I’m crossing against the light. But this morning, a miracle happened. I was finishing up a hike and heading back to my car when a guy in a pickup said hello to me. This time, instead of being grossed out, I was so pathetic, I looked up at him and smiled with grateful eyes. Turns out, the guy in the truck is a friend of the family who was just saying hello. Crap. It seems the only way a guy will give me attention anymore is if I actually know him.  Man, getting old sucks big time.

This Day Sucks

I spent the morning cleaning off the pool cover after a Winter’s long period of neglect until it’s nothing but a slab of plastic covered with primordial ooze. Then, my pre-teen, hormonal, pissed-off daughter just ran away from home. Gotta break it to the hubby. He will not be too pleased. Be on the look out for a bitter eleven year old.

* Update: The kid came home after 6 minutes and announced that she was going to play outside. Is it wrong to say it was one of the calmest six minutes I’ve had for the past 11 years?

I’m Off to Humansville!

It’s that time of year again. Time to pack up my sweatpants and church clothes and fly out with my family to visit my in-laws. What’s a nice Jewish girl from the big city doing in the middle of the country where Cool-Whip and mayo mixed together pass for a salad? Celebrating Easter of course. I’ll fill you in on the details when I get back! Until then, happy Easter!!!!

My Stupidity Sucks

So I was leaving the mall yesterday, happy to have saved a few dollars by exchanging something I never wore for something new that I could give to a friend for her birthday. I turned on my car, backed up, and Crunch! Ding! Bam!, heard that dreadful sound of metal upon metal, a sound far worse than when I stepped on a snail when I was barefoot.

Holy crapola! How quickly elation can turn into despair. And how quickly a few extra saved bucks can plummet into a sea of debt. Richard, the man whose car I hit, couldn’t have been kinder. We assessed the damage (only a few scrapped bumpers) and traded information. There were proof of insurance forms, home phone numbers, license plates, policy numbers…we exchanged everything but bodily fluids. I know that in the scale of car accidents, this was as low as they go, but all day I felt like a big fat ol’ dung heap.

I just hate it when I do stupid things, which by the way, I do all the time. Not too long ago I tried to remove sap from my car hood with nail polish remover. Before that I forgot a friend’s kid who I was watching at a party. I’ve paid for groceries and then drove away without them as my forgotten cart remained in the store, and I’m constantly mailing letters without any stamps. I never did drugs as I kid so I can’t blame it on dying brain cells. I can only assume that I’m just plain stupid. As as Forrest Gump said, “Stupid is as stupid does.” And if I wasn’t so damn stupid, I’d know what the hell he was talking about.