Category: stop acting like an adult

  • 2017.  meh.  fear and loathing in the new year.

    2017. meh. fear and loathing in the new year.

    2016 really became the most bizarre year in recent memory, especially during the second half.  Was it something that got sprayed into the air that said, “Go act crazy now, ya’ hear?” – and they did?  “They” meaning all of those who have drunk the koolaid and are expecting miracles.  Ever hear of Jim Jones and Guyana?  Hmmm.  Now this is again, “The Madness of Crowds – Extraordinary Popular Delusions”.  So, in 19 days, or thereabouts, the shit-show begins.  Yes, I can still say that.  I can curse if I want to, I have earned it.

    Hunter S. Thompson!  We miss you!  No telling what you would be saying about all of this.  Something fearsome hilarious, no doubt.  I cannot imagine.  I would think that the book would be a NYT Best Seller in a heartbeat.  We are buckling our seat belts for a wild ride, no doubt.

    Right now, though, just worried about the hacking and sputtering wink-wink.  So much ado and so much to worry about, it is one of those times that just keeps going on and on and on and on and on… and on.

    So, break out the Champagne or your favorite bubbly.  What the heck?  Why not?  Go read Revelations for some cheery late night reading – or any other apocalyptic ancient script – pick one, they all basically point to the same thing – end times with someone coming to help us out of the situation.  I’m subscribing to one, others subscribing to others… that’s the way the world has ALWAYS worked, right?

    In the meantime, I’m headed to the treadmill for some escape binge watching…  Luckily, we did not see any clowns the weekend, but plenty of wannabees.  God loves them just the same.

    Welcome to 2017.  Really.  This pie’s for you!

  • the millennial mindset and me

    the millennial mindset and me

    I read blogs out there on the inter-universe, and articles, which are really blog pieces, and I think to myself – I just feel confused about where I fit.  But thankfully, a fellow-writer, Julia Bell, has this piece that tells us that it is actually important to think about your purpose, and accept yourself.

    Millennials the Consumer Majority.

    There is a lot of talk about Millennials these days, because they are at the heart of the labor force and consumer groups that are the focus of advertising and the media.  I go back to that generational part of my life when I was in my 30’s (phase into where they are moving or are), and think about the crazy parts, especially, and how, if I had to do that now, would I manage it – if differently, or not.

    #ThinkLikeAMillenial

    I’m not necessarily like some people “my age”.  I have these friends and neighbors and they are around “my age”, but let’s just say that we don’t always align on some pretty major things.  It’s like my feet are stuck in the mud of one time frame, and those people are pretty satisfied with moving on, getting into their senior years and all that comes with that.  Sometimes we relate on some things, like I said, and this yields some pretty interesting conversations, especially if adult beverages are involved…

    It’s hard to be “me”, without letting my feelings about certain things out of the bag, which immediately categorizes me it a lot of people’s minds, and there you go.

    What you must know is that I might not fit into the “boomer” mindset completely, maybe a little, but not anywhere near 50%, even.  Actually, I just measured.  I’m not even in the “Boomer” range on the scale.

    While people are “enjoying retirement”, I am doing “business development”.  I figure, just go until you are stopped… by something, other than yourself.

    If you are interested in seeing where you fit, take this survey and contribute to Pew Research:

    How Millennial Are You?    You see, I’m pretty much half way to being a Millennial!

    how millenial are youWhy is this important?

    Let’s take the targeted advertising, for instance.  People are trying to get you to buy stuff.  It may be pure crap.  But they look at how you surf the net, and Facebook, and LinkedIn, and every other social media site.  They probably monitor your phone calls, for all I know.  There is NO PRIVACY.  This has been a factoid for many years – likely well over 15.

    “They” may look at your chronological age and assess, “this person needs to be looking at bathtubs with doors, or those seat things that move you up stairs on some sort of pulley mechanism to get you to the top without you having to climb, or catheters, or comfortable shoes, or knee braces, or”  You get it, right?

    Every time one of these ads pops up onto my radar, I’m thinking, “Really?”  Why me?  Well, it’s because of these constantly churning information collecting/analytical info-bots, looking to enable people to sell to the right audience – but they can be wrong – but do they care?  Not really.  They try to refine based on what you actually do buy vs. what they thought you might buy, and so forth.

    If you want to wack them out a bit, when you are “retirement age”, sign up for a Seventeen Magazine subscription, WIRED, some news magazine (take your pick), and one other one that is discordant – it gets “them” confused.  It’s the Andy Rooney influence…

    Yet there can be advantages.

    When I turned 40, my Mom signed me up for AARP.  I still like AARP so that I can get the old-people discounts, plus they are lobbying for “us” – and they have a strong voice behind the effort.

    My Mom was not by any stretch of the imagination anything but smart.  She was an activist of sorts, and spoke her opinion (maybe a bit too much at times).  She got a little flaky in her last years on earth, but she was still intellectually top notch.  She, too, did not align with people her own age and had many younger friends.

    There is an urge that I have, sometimes, walking in stores, or wherever you’re in a crowd, to ask people, whose age I can’t guess, “Can you answer a simple question for me?  How old are you?”  I think that they’re likely to either to flip me off, or maybe lie, or they just might tell me the truth.  If I could correlate this with their picture, even better.  But, this is a delusional idea – probably, especially these days, people would give you “that look” (crazy lady alert!)… And just walk off…

    Predictable Outcomes?

    Just a few years ago, five to be exact, a notice went out to those attending my high-school reunion: “Those who need assistance to walk upstairs, please let us know such that we can get assistance for moving you in and out of the building, when you arrive and depart.”  Whoa.  These are people that would not even be 60 yet.  Geeze-Louise.

    And then, I thought about the prior 10-year reunion, and why they sent the message about disabilities out makes sense.  There was an interesting picture taken of the members of our class who attended.  A large percentage were in the extremely obese range of weight.  Yeah, I imagine that their joints are not holding up so well by now.

    So, I get on my treadmill, and tread.  Every day, if possible – or do something else to “feed the Fitbit”…  I don’t fight with it , I know that this has to happen.  I get out and “wog” on the trails, weather permitting, and I do what I can to stay as healthy as I can, because, God only knows, they sock it to the old people who get sick and take away all of their money, even their homes and such – but that is quite another story… they actually will do that to anybody, regardless of age.

    When I am facing questions related to my age: 

    Q:  What do I do about things like fashion?

    A:  Go comfy.  If it hurts, don’t wear it. This goes for clothes and shoes.  Absolutely NO stilettos.  Broken arches and ankles do not serve anyone very well.

    Q:  Glasses, what frames do I choose?  You see, I kind of feel like people prejudge me because of my glasses frames, and the thickness of the lenses, when I know full well that there are people who have worn thick lenses since they were in grade-school – so, why prejudge me for this?  It’s silly.

    A:  I wear those that enable me to see the best.  If there are big fat frames around my view, it is limiting my view.  Enough said.

    Q:  What about my hair?

    A:  No, I am NOT going to get that short haircut again that makes me look like any other middle-aged, stodgy aging woman that wears pantsuits with elastic waistbands made of polyester or rayon mu-mu’s, for that matter.  We start losing our curves and become “Weebles” (thank you Hasbro).

    weebles-webecomeTMI – Information – Dis-information – Re-Digested Opinions

    Information that looks like one thing that is actually another thing – appearance is not always reality.  Go with your gut.

    OK,  when I really think about this and it makes me a bit dizzy, I have to step back to a book called Gut that was written in 2006, by Karen Salamansohn, about using your intuition, that I purchased back then – after my first Myers-Briggs scoring.  My score was very high “N” – in fact it is within my four letter MB descriptor.  This score, subsequently, has been validated over and over by other tests that measure this.  I do have strong intuition.  Measured.  Felt.

    I have to listen to my gut, as imperfect as it is, as not listening to it has put me in a bad place more than once – you live, you learn.  If there is something not quite right sometimes, and it drives me crazy until I solve it.  That’s how “intuitive life” is.

    IMG_7867

    At any rate, I am still observing the culture – every day.  There is so much information, and with the way that I think and with my strong intuition, I can only conclude that taking the high ground is the safest way to keep from drowning.  It seems to work at a number of levels right now…

     

  • waiting for the second that something will change or maybe not.

    waiting for the second that something will change or maybe not.

    Blade Runner.  Great movie.  Classic.  We saw it again recently.  A reminder of the perceptions of life that we hold onto as we cruise through it.  Maybe not in a futuristic vehicle, but maybe it is – if you time slice automobiles from the time you were born, to now – hey, by the time you are my age, they do look futuristic.  They still don’t fly through the air, except in bad circumstances

    That’s another story. Chaotic.  Strange.  Wake me up when this movie is over

    But sometimes things happen and you can’t wake up from it, and you can’t get away from it.  It just is how it is.  I have experienced that.  More than once.  Yeah, life sucks sometimes.

    Disease, divorce, death – the three “D’s” that you get told by counselors that say these are major deals in your life.  Of course your own death isn’t likely to affect you in a big way, just other people who are left behind.  And that is yet another story.  Been there, done that.  No amount of experience prepares you.

    Things get put on your radar that weren’t there just a minute or two before.  Stuff like that.  That is when we don’t want change to happen.  It is a “please, just let me BE” kind of appeal.  I’m not ready for the great up yonder yet.  We don’t get to decide that, Silly.  Haven’t you figured that out yet?  So, nobody wants to face that, but yet we face it every day.  We just send it under the gray matter.  Fear of “it” in any representation.

    the clown

    Clowns.  Monsters.  Deep space.  Any abyss – beings and places you cannot know simply because you cannot see or touch what is within.  Let’s take clowns.  Underneath all of that make up, wigs, baggy clothes, big shoes and those big red noses is something you cannot understand.  Oh, and yeah.  There’s the teeth part.  Big teeth.  “The clowns are waiting, I cannot sleep.”

    Thanks Stephen King.  Master of bringing you your worst nightmares in print.  You are compelled to NOT put the book down until you get through to the end.

    I think that if a dark future is defined for you, and you are told this, it makes you realize that you are not in control here.  You are definitely NOT in control.  Sometimes you go down the river in Egypt – de Nile.  Or your mind chops it up into itty-bitty pieces.  At some point, the removal of the perceived control makes you angry.  It makes you lose it.  Yeah.  Lose control.  Oh yeah… never actually had it, did you?  So, get pissed off, get over it and call me in the morning.

    Living in the past lately, for some strange reason I call it studying the past.  Suddenly, the 1960’s are fascinating.  Maybe clinging is a better word.  Maybe not.

    Photo - 010Day to day, for comfort, we delude ourselves into thinking that everything is fine.  It’s a self-protection, this calm of the moment.  A womb.  We sit in it and watch the world go by.  Then the tap on the shoulder. 

    Imagine riding along on I-10 one minute, and crunched between vehicles the next.  Split second.  Bastante.

    Don’t forget.  Joy happens, too.  Learning that you will be a parent, then waiting the appointed time before that actually happens. 

    The split second you see the new little person, made of 50% you, emerging into the world – now that’s joy!  Let’s not think of other possibilities.  Be in the moment.  It’s important.  Let’s just think that things will be fine and the miracle of life will be right in front of our very eyes. 

    Experience teaches us lessons of dubiousness and as we have more of those experiences, we get more dubious.  It’s as simple as that.

    Photo - 007I have been accused of being “negative”.  Maybe when I am speaking with people who are close to me, it is the fact that I feel that I can speak freely.  Well, maybe I can’t as much as I thought.  Live and learn.  There was innocence before the fall.

    My life experience unfolds every day.   Everyone on this planet experiences this as long as they are still breathing. 

    Revisiting what I did once, thinking back about it, I felt like I was wandering in the forest, to be honest.  I look at these old photos and wonder what happened to these girls who were friends back in 7th grade.

    Mostly, I was afraid of my mother.  I was always trying to escape her grip of control.  She didn’t want me to wear shoes with no socks.  She did not want me to wear make-up.  She did not want me to shave my legs or arm pits.  For God’s sake, I was looking like a baby gorilla!  What a dork – wearing socks and clunky shoes (oh  yeah, she didn’t want me to wear cool shoes – only those that were “supportive”).  No make up, no eye liner, no lipstick – Frosted Malt or Sugar and Ice – the two popular ones at the time so you could look like “Twiggy”.  Right.  See me in that dress.  I absolutely did NOT look like Twiggy.  I had curly hair, when styles were straight.  My mom kept cutting my hair, when I wanted it long.  What did we agree on?  Not much.

    We finally had it out when I was in seventh grade.  Yeah.  She took a slap at me and I caught her hand in mid-air.  I said, “Don’t do that to me ever again.”  Line in the sand.  That was the day she realized that I was bigger and stronger than she was.  And she didn’t physically do that again.  She used her mind instead… oh yeah, and her voice.  Boy could she scream and yell.

    Photo_035

    She was kind of a “Dr. Jekyl – Mrs. Hyde”.  But eventually, we knew the relationship boundaries and we got as okay as we could — and she did rise to help and support at grim times, when she was most needed.  She could behave like a normal human being if she put her mind to it.  A real normal one.  That was what perplexed everyone about her.  But underneath, she was a normal person, trying to stay that way.  It was probably clowns that drove her into her spells.

    So I digress.

    Childhood.  Adolescence.  Adulthood.  I guess all I wanted was some credibility.  Well, here I am. 

    I’ve been so trying not to repeat history, that it hurts.  Maybe I have gone a bit too far, but then, you are never sure.

    We have those moments in our lives that we will look back on, embarrassed, but knowing that it was the best that we could do at the time with what capabilities we had and being what people we were, we can take comfort.  We were children.   It’s okay.   Photo - 004We can’t go back and change this.  Only in the movies, but then it gets complicated when this happens, as we have seen.

    But we had fun and we did crazy stuff.  We snuck out and rode around, and met boys at the movies, and made out in the dark.  We probably did a lot of things that millions of other kids did around the world.  That’s why I love that movie, “The Boat that Rocked”  AKA “Pirate Radio”.   It captured how we were – on the brink of something revolutionary.  It was great!  The British Rock invasion… The Soul Train… Girl groups – yeah, Lezley Gore – It’s My Party and I will Cry if I Want!  Love it!

    One thing, though – we can’t go back.  Would we want to go back?  No, not really.  Some of those days weren’t so much fun.  But what I think is that we should appreciate every day.  I know it’s hard for people facing tough times.

    We can’t magic away the tough times.  But if you are just needing to change your attitude, then you really should think about it.

    I am.  Every day.  Every day.