Tag Archives: age

Still Wild At Heart

13 Feb


Something has happened to me and I didn’t see it coming.   If I analyzed each component of this realization individually I might not have come to the same conclusion.  It is the combination of all components which made me go ‘WOW’ something has happened.

Clue #1: I am currently sitting at the gate for my flight 2 hours early. I am actually at the gate.   That means I arrived at the airport 2 hours and 30 minutes before my flight.  I’ve never been one to stress greatly about time when it comes to getting to the airport – I like to get there in the shortest amount of time without being considered late.  One hour. I am not one for waiting around when waiting around isn’t necessary.  I am normally the last one getting on the plane as I want to spend the least amount of time possible jammed into my seat.  Although in recent times getting on the plane early has its merits since most everyone brings an excessive amount of checked luggage and if you don’t get on early there is no room left.   But let’ focus on me arriving early to the airport.

Clue #2: Practicality when it comes to fashion is not my jam. In spring, summer and fall my Carrie Bradshaw ways to do not cause any issues.  Enter winter.  In the past, I’ve been known to wear heels in a snow storm, and one winter, when I lived in Toronto, I survived with a jean jacket as I couldn’t find a winter jacket I liked enough.  I was willing to suffer through the cold all in the spirit of avoiding being ‘not-fashionable’.  I subjected myself to salt stains on shoes and frozen appendages by choice.   As I sit here at my gate 2 hours before my flight I can’t help but take account of what I am wearing.  I have a stylish winter jacket and on my feet… rubber boots.  Granted they are not regular rubber boots – they look like leather boots and they are a chic moto style.  It made me think even further – I did not even pack a pair of heels for this trip.  A pair of booties with a heel (but not heels).  Socks can be worn with the booties.

Clue #3: Last night (and most nights) before I went to bed I cleansed my face. I exfoliated.  I removed my eye make-up.  I moisturized.  I moisturized my neck.  When I woke up this morning I didn’t have yesterday on my face and red lipstick on my pillow.

Clue #4: Last Friday night when I arrived in Toronto I stayed with one of my girlfriends. Traditionally we could jump right into socializing and sleep very little.   I had a very busy week leading up to my departure and knew we had plans on Saturday night with a big group of girlfriends.  I found myself saying – I am fine to stay in and get a good sleep in order to be fresh for tomorrow.  What?  Did I actually say that?  Let’s stay in so we can be fresh for tomorrow.  I think most anyone who knows me would say I am a social creature who would rarely miss out on an opportunity to fraternize.  Especially when there could be hot men found.  ESPECIALLY when there could be hot men found.

Clue #5: Prior to my departure for this trip I had my laundry done a day early. I packed with strategy vs an eleventh hour throw together. I had cleaned out my fridge as I was leaving for 10 days.  I put the garbage and compost out.  I got my nails done the day before.  I left the key in the cupboard outside of my doorway in case someone needed to stay there was I was gone.  My departure was organized.

(I had to stop writing at this point as my flight was boarding)

On my flight home I had an older woman from Newfoundland seated beside me.  There were no TV screens on the plane to be distracted by andshe was up for some chatting, so we gabbed and laughed for most of the flight.  We covered a lot of subjects: travel, health, relationships, online dating, adoption, death and Trump (of course).  I roared at some of the funny things she said.  When talking about a friends daughter she said ‘Anna was looking for a man and let’s just say she wasn’t picky’.  At the end of the flight she said to me ‘Well, how lucky was I to sit by you.  What an interesting person you are and life you have.  You’re just so much fun – I haven’t laughed like that in awhile.’  And I said the same to her.

So when I put it all together: early to the airport, wearing appropriate clothing, a consistent skin care routine, choosing to be fresh over hunting for men and having my place perfectly organized prior to my departure. I have become sensible.  I need to find a better term for it – like some women who do not want to be called Grandma, being called sensible doesn’t resonate well with me.  Mature, grounded, evolved.    There is no sexy substitute for it.  I’ve resolved that just because I am on time, wearing waterproof shoes and feeling well rested does not mean that I am boring. I may have become more sensible in my ways, but as my seatmate recognized I’ve not lost my wild heart.

“Being tame is what we’re taught: … put the crayons back, stay in line, don’t talk too loud, keep your knees together, nice girls don’t…
As you might know, nice girls DO, and they like to feel wild and alive. Being tame feels safe, being wild, unsafe. Yet safety is an illusion anyway. We are not in control. No matter how dry and tame and nice we live, we will die. And we will suffer along the way. Living wild is its own reward.”  S.A.R.K.


Mirror, Mirror, on the wall…

4 Apr


I realized today that tomorrow is one month until my next birthday.  36!  I will be in the higher end of my mid 30’s (I think 37 is officially ‘late 30’s’).  So I got thinking about age.

My elementary music teachers name was Miss Hickey (no man ever dared to claim her).  She was an anomaly to say the least.  She wore a wig, cleaned her dentures in front of the class after she ate tapioca pudding with rotten bananas in it, wore polyester pants pulled up as high as they could go with a white blouse tucked into them, had big pointy boobs and put too light powder on her face that made her look mime like.  She also had bad bunions, loved classical music and drove a powder blue Tempo Topaz which had sheet music/records piled up to the windows.  I have no idea how Helen Hickey became who she was.  Apparently, her age was classified information.  Back as far as I can remember age was such a taboo topic (as was talking about finances, sex, religion, health – all the good stuff) and it always seemed like it was something negative.  Getting older.  Not getting more interesting, more confidant, more beautiful, more content, or more sexy. I’ve always loved the saying ‘Age is mind over matter… it only matters if you mind.’  I actually quite like getting older (really it is better than the alternative, right?).

I really try (emphasis on try) to make laughter and having connections with others  be part of my daily life.  Like tonight, I met a man who lives on my street for the first time.  After chatting he wanted to give Millie a treat (which were in his apartment).  He is an older man and likely lonely.  Say the word treat and Millie is in without hesitation.  I just saw the movie Room so I felt a bit hesitant to go in.   I stayed out on the street laughing as my dog was in someone’s apartment getting a treat.  They both ended up quite happy and Millie has not died from poisoning yet.  As I get older I’ve noticed more heavy topics floating around on the regular – relationship issues, health, fertility, finances, careers, retirement, wrinkles, terrorism, economy, lack of sleep, what next, worry. Stress!  Why does adult life  have to be so damn serious?  Whatever you focus on appears.  If you are reading this my wish is for you to shake it off sometime in the near future.  There is a hashtag I use often.  #letitgo.  Have some fun.  Connect with people around you.  It will make you feel fresh and lighter. On Saturday I did an egg beater, helicopter, bootie shake, handstand dance compilation for my 7 and 6 year old nieces.  It was Beyonce like and they were very impressed.   I am the young woman in the picture, not the old hag.

Idea: Better Beach Attire Revolution

25 Jan


I always marvel at what I see when I hit the beach.  I am a huge believer in the fact that any body type/size can look great… with the right clothes.  I am also a believer in the fact that you don’t need deep pockets to get clothing that emphasizes your good bits instead of your not-so-good bits.  Our society is all about liberation, but liberation doesn’t mean you need to look trashy while doing so.   Fashion don’ts seem to be more prevalent at the beach. I love people watching; the beach is a breeding ground for sights that just sink my battle ship.

Yesterday, we hit the beach and within minutes I was amazed at what I saw.  Right off the bat there is a guy that is so tanned his skin looked like  a leather jacket I had in high school wearing tightie short shorts and a rocking a metal detector and giant headphones. I guess he was seeking his fortune on the shores of Poipu.  Not even a minute later I saw something that amazed me.  There was a woman who was (hmmmm what is the best way to describe her) “VERY rotund” wearing a bikini bent over with legs spread apart trying to put on flippers. Poor Maurice was stunned and shocked.  It literally stopped me in my tracks. I am still scarred by that one.  Around the bend there was a woman on the rocks wearing a hat that was literally the size of an umbrella. I have no idea where she got this hat.  The only thing I could figure it is good at is keeping people away because it had a 4 foot circumference.   It was quite a windy day yesterday so it kind of looked like Dumbo trying to take flight – she was holding onto it trying to not fly away.

A few years ago I hit Spain with 2 of my girlfriends where there are nude beaches.  In an effort to get away from the all the solicitors (massages, beer, coconuts, etc) at the “non nude” beaches we hit the nude beach… clothed.  There we were 3 non tanned conservative (in comparison) Canadian girls wearing bathing suits on a nude beach.  We couldn’t have stood out anymore.  I honestly thought we were going to die laughing.  Lara inconspicously zoomed in on body parts of others on the beach and snapped some doozies.  Saggy asses, saggy boobs, huge fake boobs, saggy man parts… you get the picture. There was a short portly woman who didn’t have a top on who was wearing a thong bikini bottom… backwards.  Oddly the nude beach was better because there is no “style” to being naked. There is no “bad fit” when you are naked.  

As much as I would love to start a “better beach attire revolution” I kind of don’t want  things to change because it gives me great material.  Once I post this I am going to go put on my bathing suit as I am going to hit the beach… a nice one piecer that covers up my not-so-good bits and holds my not-so-small boobs in place. 

I will never do that…

8 May

So, I turned 33 on the weekend!  When I say that number it sounds kind of crazy because I don’t feel much different than I did at 22, 26 and 30.  In fact, I really like being 33.  

I remember being younger than I am now and saying “oh I would never do that”, “I would never wear that”, etc.  One specific thing is wearing a purse over my shoulder.  At that time I thought fanny packs were the way to go and having a shoulder purse seemed so “old”.  However, as I got older I migrated towards the over the shoulder version.  I am very strange about expiration dates.  I think this dates back to an elementary school experience I had with drinking sour milk.  In grade two Mrs. Broussard made me drink it and I have been milk scarred ever since. I recall Mom looking at something that was over date smelling it, cutting mold of it and saying “it is fine”.  I would start gagging and being terribly dramatic.  Well guess what?  I now smell things and I cut off mold from cheese.  What has happened to me?

There is one thing I will NEVER do.  Yesterday I made my way to Miami via the Philadelphia airport.  I had about 1.5 hours to spare so I was just strolling around.  Along my stroll I decided to pop into a washroom to have a pee.  This is where it happened.  Why is it that every time I go in an airport bathroom some older woman comes in and literally blows her arse off in the stall beside me?  As in, this women let out a fart that was so loud it nearly lifted me off the toilet I was on. No matter what age I am I will forever be clenching my butt cheeks in a public washroom or at least ensure that I am 100% alone.  That is one thing I will never do.