Tag Archives: aging

He did it!


We’ve talked about it for years.

He’s come close a few times but was never able to pull the trigger.

I was beginning to wonder if it would ever happen.

But today?

He actually did it.



My husband finally sent in his retirement papers!

While most people dream of this day, my other half has been strangely dreading it. The man has worked since he was 12 years old and he’s going to have a hard time adjusting.

To be honest, he’s not handling the aging process well. Instead of looking forward to relaxing… he feels old and unproductive. Put out to pasture, next step death.

It’s been a constant struggle for me to lighten the mood and paint a rosy picture of our lives post employment. This shouldn’t be difficult, we’re debt free and financially secure….



Well, that could be an issue…. but my workaholic spouse needs the challenge and feeling of accomplishment work provides, and keeping him upbeat is becoming a bit of a chore.

Our original plan was retirement in 2020 and then … sayonara baby, we were going to travel! But the global plague had other ideas and it’s kicked his health paranoia into full gear, so that’s out for now.

I have a honey do list that could keep him busy until the next millennia, but he doesn’t seem interested.



That could work. But come on, how much time can you actually spend peeing?

The husband doesn’t fish, or carve duck decoys. He isn’t one for sitting still long enough to read a good book or enjoy a sunset from a rocking chair.

I know it sounds silly, but I swear he’s depressed at the very thought of retirement.

Any advice you can offer would be appreciated. My Suzy Sunshine routine is starting to wear a little thin.


Beauty products I probably need, but won’t buy.


This first one makes me laugh because I’ve been saying it for years.

Don’t waste your money on expensive wrinkle creams ladies… just get some spackle and a putty knife to fill in those cracks.




Same idea… different packaging.



Bad pun aside, if I want to slather egg white on my face? I’ll wait until it’s time to bake blueberry coffee cake again.



No plastic egg required.



This has always baffled me.

It’s ACID…. and peels off a layer of your skin to boost that brightness. Vegan?

Well no shit.

How many cows do you know who are filled with acid?



Silicone mask brush?



Looks like another putty knife to me.

Finally, there’s lip lifter.



Lip lifter.

For Christ’s sake. I have boob lifting bras and butt lifting panties …. now you want me to lift my lips?

I give up.

Gravity, do what you will. As long as I can still lift the martini glass?

I’m good.


Clearly it’s been a long time…


As you know, I am not a 25 year old single woman….  (Please refrain from commenting if you value our friendship)  so it’s been a while since I leafed through a Cosmopolitan magazine. But for some reason a girlfriend gifted me a subscription, and I felt I needed to honor the gesture.




My hair removal routine is neither adventurous nor worth writing about, and as for the scale….. I’m afraid my hairless cat level will have to remain a mystery. I like my readers, but not that much.



And how do they know walking burrito wasn’t the look I was going for?

Fashion is personal…. and I happen to have the perfect black bean earrings to match, so there!



The selfie wasn’t around when I was young and single, so this may be a day late and a dollar short… but here goes.




Okay, so maybe I need a little more practice.



What kind of noodle am I?

Yes…. I’m beginning to remember why I stopped reading Cosmo in the first place.

(In case you’re wondering? Rigatoni baby.)

I found this issue to be so utterly ridiculous, I may have to make it a monthly series. And if you’re groaning now?

Just be thankful I didn’t share all the articles today.




Yes, it’s clearly been a while since I read single women’s magazines.


Oh, no… Hell no.


Women will try anything to keep their skin looking supple and smooth. The illusion of youth is a powerfully motivating force.

And while I admit to buying my fair share of high priced creams and lotions in a feeble attempt to push back the hand of time…. even I have a limit.

Here it is:





Snail mucus.




Because someone, somewhere, at sometime saw this…..




And thought, yup….

I got to get me some of that!




Have you tried it?


I did.

And yes, I know.. I know… the Russians own my pictures now. But Mark Zuckerberg’s had them for years, and Google and Amazon probably know my bra size. It’s the world we live in.


It came out back in 2017, but just recently went viral.

Before everyone realized it was owned by a Russian company, we all  flipped the f*ck out had fun watching ourselves age.





The normal photo of me.




The FaceApp aging photo of me.




I mean, HOLY HELL!

If that doesn’t make you run for the retinol cream, nothing will.




Personally, I prefer the anti aging, younger version.




Oh, to be that young and sweet again.

(Okay, I was never really sweet per se… but I could do without the bunions.)




Said no man, ever.

But you can see how addicting this app can be…. and why it’s so popular.

Normal me?


IMG_2640 (640x480)


Old me.





Young me…





Not even old enough to drink.




Christ on a cracker… I’m a crone!

With the big hair and eye liner?  I look like an aging hooker.




There, that’s better.

Quick, get me a Tardis…

I wanna go back!




Why yes.

Yes, it was…


For Kathy, a picture of my mom for comparison.

Gravity, thou art a fickle bitch.


For women, it’s an inescapable fact.

We age… and things start to head south.




One day you wake up and the girls aren’t as perky as they used to be.

And before you know it?

You’re searching the jeans section for the ones that include butt lifters.






Over the shoulder boulder holders….




The entire foundation undergarment industry is built on defying female gravity.

And because I’m over 40? (Okay, way over… now shut up)

I’ve got plenty that’s starting the downward descent…

So when I was cruising Bed Bath and Beyond the other day and saw this?

It really ticked me off.





Now I have to start worrying that my earrings are going to sag?

It’s enough to make me turn in my woman card.









50 is the new 30?

Not even close.

Everything started to go downhill on me at that age…. literally and figuratively.

Now at 55?

I may not look it, but I feel it.

Back pain?  (I used to be able to bend like a pretzel, what the hell happened?)

Unexplained aches and stiffness?  ( Groaning upon rising from a seated position is not sexy.  Not at all. )

Fatigue for no good reason?  (Thank you menopause, as if the damned hot flashes aren’t bad enough.)

And let’s not talk about the weight gain, bunions and hair sprouting where hair has never sprouted before.


Let’s not!