After writing a humorous post about the benefits of being age 50, I was asked to appear on CNN to talk about my experiences at this age in light of Michelle Obama’s 50th birthday. The host, Brooke Baldwin, asked me “What would you tell your 30-year-old self?” In the video, you can see me hesitate because what I wanted to say was “Grab a bottle of vodka and some Xanax then run because shit is about to go down. Continue reading
I’m excited to announce a new feature at Hot Flashes of Inspiration: Women of a Certain Awesome.
Let me give you a little background into why I created this…
I recently wrote about how many women over the age of 50 feel invisible and unappreciated by our youth-centered society. A reporter asked me shortly after the article was published “What are you going to do about it?”
What was I going to do about it? How can one person change an entire culture’s view of aging women? If I continued to write about the negative aspects of aging, then I would be contributing to the perpetuation of this viewpoint. Not gonna happen! Continue reading
While waiting for my Triple Grande Skinny Mocha yesterday at Starbucks, I noticed a woman in her 50′s approach the counter. Her hair was short and silver, her shoes were sensible and flat and, by first glance, she looked rather plain.
When she turned, I noticed the beautiful jewelry she was wearing. Silver choker with a huge glimmering stone in the center and matching earrings. I felt awkward about approaching her but felt I wanted to tell her how nice they were.
“Where did you get them?” I asked. “I made them”, she said with her face beaming. We proceeded to talk about how she selected the stones and her passion for jewelry making. I asked if she sold jewelry and she remarked that she would love to but needed to work full-time to support her mother who is in a nursing home.
I think that made me admire her even more. I don’t know if she felt the same but I felt uplifted when I left. Just seeing a woman over 50 with a passion for her art made me inspired.
New Year, New You. This time of year we see a lot of ads for plumpers, fillers, extractions, and other painful ways that allegedly will make your life miraculously better if you just stop being what you are naturally. Plastic surgery has become common place and more women are opting for an expressionless forehead in exchange for the semblance of a more youthful appearance.
I joke alot about needing and getting plastic surgery but the truth of the matter is I would never do it for the following reasons:
I know I am the hardest person in the world to shop for. If I see something I want, I snatch that shit up in a heartbeat because I know that there’s a snowball’s chance in hell my husband will think to get it for me. He’s a cutie pie but, Dear God, the man has no clue how to shop for me.
It really shouldn’t be that hard since anything bedazzled and shiny will do. I even send him links to things I like with a “BUY THIS FOR ME” note attached but he insists on making his own choices with varying degrees of disappointing results.
I began to realize I had acquired a cloak of invisibility when it came to men a few years ago. I was no longer on the receiving end of the prolonged glance, the admiring wink, or, hell, even an acknowledgement I was in the same breathing space as a male of the species.
This stirred some very strange emotions in me: Was I no longer attractive? Did I really look that bad? Over time, this began to change my personality. I no longer waltzed into a room like I was announcing “Here I am, lucky world!” but began to almost feel apologetic for taking up space where a super-hot infant of age 20 could be standing.
The Queen Mother has resisted our attempts over the years to secure a medic alert device in her home. At almost 81, she is still very active and independent but she lives alone and my sister and I worry about her. So sue us. We were raised by a most excellent guilt-wielding non-Jewish Jewish mother. It’s what we do.
“I am going to spend every last penny of my Louis Vuitton purse fund on gifts for you and your sister. I will put the Christmas tree up by myself as everyone runs for the hills every year when I pull out the boxes and magically reappears when it is all done. I will wrap all the presents and buy all the stocking stuffers even though you busted Santa years ago.
A few years back, one of my SuperSpawnlings was less than gracious when given her Christmas wish list budget. I was a single mom at the time and times were really hard. Coming up with any extra money was difficult and I went without necessities to give my little darlings the few gifts I could.
After recovery from a near-death experience with the flu, your SuperGal was back in the trenches tackling a mountain of neglected laundry. Mind you, I did not sign-up for this duty but apparently it is more likely that magical monkeys will fly out of my ass rather than someone else lifting a finger to help with this task.
As I stared at the monstrosity before me, I thought…
“I wonder if there is actually someone out there who enjoys doing laundry. What I need is someone with a sock-folding fetish! Everyone wins!”