Filed under: Food/Drink, mental health, Middle Age, Posts, Spring Break, Travel | Tags: humor, travel, vacation, self-care, Mexico, spa, resort
Sitting here looking at the ice that is taking its sweet, sweet time melting (I’m so freaking over it), I started daydreaming about our pre-ice storm trip to Mexico…one we had been looking forward to for months so we could relax after a difficult and busy year. The resort was one of those all-inclusive resorts for couples, and we were ready for some down time.
You should know that when we first talked about this place, I told Hubby that if there was a cheesey, Las Vegas-style heart-shaped tub anywhere I was leaving. Rest assured, this was not Love Island. It was actually very classy and the service was excellent.
In fact, the resort guests in early January were mostly folks older than us and a few obvious honeymooners. God bless ’em – I’m sure they didn’t anticipate hanging out by the pool near Gerald, a former EVP of something nobody cares about and who is on his third wife. Gerald talks loudly into his phone on speaker mode. All afternoon, as Gerald and his wife mold themselves into their chairs, the staff dutifully bring a steady supply of gin and tonics for him, tequila and sodas for her. The talking gets louder as the gin and tonics kick in, but it was hard to tell how his wife felt about it because she’d had so much surgery or Botox nothing moved.
But I digress.
While we were there, we scheduled a couples massage for 4:00pm one afternoon. Of course, that was the day we met some fun people from Canada who were well-versed in the various rums and tequilas on offer at the swim-up bar. At 3:45, we remembered the massage, stopped at the restroom and sprinted to the spa.
The receptionist did a great job of hiding her disgust at what I am sure was a miasma of liquor coming off of us in waves. She escorted us into the changing rooms, and, after several tries, I got my wet bathing suit off, my feet into the slippers and the fluffy towel wrap thing on right side out. Eventually I met Hubby in the room for a two-part hour of relaxation: half back and neck massage, half facial.
It was great…until I had to pee half-way through.
We had just started the facial and I was doing the horizontal version of the pee-pee dance, when I finally gave in and told the very kind lady that I HAD to go. She laughed and removed whatever was covering my eyes, then helped me sit up and wrap myself in the towel. She marched me down a very long, peaceful hallway filled with light, palm trees, rocks and running water, all of which made the need even more urgent. I passed a couple of people but was on a mission, so just kept motoring for the bathroom.
As I entered the bathroom, I made a horrible mistake – I looked in the mirror.
Mrs. Doubtfire looked back at me. My face was covered in thick, white cream and my hair was sticking up like a crown all around my face.
I started laughing and barely made it into the stall.
It’s really hard to pee when you’re laughing.
When I finally came out, I avoided the mirror and high-tailed it back through the serene hallway and those few people walking silently about. This time I was aware of a few stares and possibly some disapproving glances.
In a few minutes I settled down and enjoyed the last of the session. But I did learn a few things that day:
- Don’t be Gerald (or his wife). People will silently hate you just a little bit.
- Don’t drink before or after a massage – the list of reasons why is as long as long as the hallway I had to traverse looking like a melted marshmallow.
- If you are wrapped in a robe and slippers and covered in face cream, do not—under any circumstances—look in a mirror unless you are emotionally prepared to meet your new identity as “Haunted Spa Ghost.”
- Serenity is fragile. It can be destroyed instantly by the sound of your own laughter echoing off stone walls while strangers silently judge your life choices.
- No matter how fancy the resort, how calming the music, or how skilled the masseuse… I will always find a way to turn relaxation into a minor public spectacle.
So, a belated happy New Year my friends, and make sure you schedule some time for self-care!
Filed under: Posts | Tags: Christmas, family, fiction, humor, life, Middle-Age, new year, sex
Happy post-holiday food and drink orgy – and welcome to a new year of ways I can embarrass myself (and sometimes my family). It’s been a long hiatus from this collection of stupid things I think about and do, but in the immortal words of Randy Quaid….I’m BAAAAACK!
Now many of you know I can be forgetful. I blame it on age; some in my house would say I have ADD and should stop calling the kettle black. Either way, this Christmas my memory played a trick on me of epic proportions.
A few weeks before Christmas, Hubby went on an on-line buying spree and accidentally kept sending things to Daughter #1’s (D1) house. So, he asked her to bring them up for Christmas, hoping against hope she wouldn’t open the one that had some female “enhancement cream.” (Now, before you start getting all red and judgmental, remember that we’re in our 50s and have been together for 35 years. Sometimes you have to shake things up.) D1 said she would. For the next three weeks Hubby festered and worried that she would open the package.
“Do you think she opened it?” he asked me at least once a week.
“No, she wouldn’t. She knows it’s for Christmas,” I would reply.
Meanwhile, said daughter called me as soon as it came and asked if she could wrap it up, along with the other things, and put them under the tree from Santa – and surprise her dad. Knowing that the girls and their very significant others would be there, I laughed and said yes. This Christmas was already super weird, so why not make it epic?
And then I instantly forgot about it.
The day finally came to open presents with the kids. The tree was beautiful, the fire was lit, and we were all taking turns opening our gifts (yes, we’re that kind of family). I reached for a small gift that was to me from Santa and opened it. Inside was a pretty pink tube of cream. Without thinking I sniffed it (peppermint) and proceeded to rub it all over my hands, thinking it was hand lotion. I glanced at D1 and she was looking at me with horror. Then she covered her mouth and started laughing. Hard.
It took a couple of seconds before it clicked.
Oh shit…it’s THE CREAM!!
I looked at my greasy hands and started laughing, too.
D1 had to explain what was so funny to everyone else. D2 was also horrified but somehow didn’t seem surprised. I don’t know if I just no longer shock her with how dumb I can be, or if she knew about it. Hubby was totally confused for a second and then just asked if it worked.
I never looked at the boys to see what their reactions were – but I’m pretty sure that was not on their holiday wish list.
Here’s the answers to a few FAQs I’ve received after sharing this story:
- No, it didn’t make my hands warm and tingly
- No, I haven’t tried it in its official capacity, mostly because I DON’T KNOW WHERE IT IS. But, I swear to God If the kids have taken it and are going to mail it to me again, that will start a war that I will win.
- Yes, we have updated the delivery address.
- No, I still haven’t found out what the boys think. I don’t want to know. But I can safely say they just got a peek into the level of crazy we are currently operating on.
So, happy New Year everyone! 2025 went out with a tingle…and rest assured, I’ll be ordering my Prevegen shortly.
Filed under: Middle Age, Misc. Humor, Posts | Tags: anxiety, apocalypse, comedy, humor, plague, survivor, UFOs
These days there is a lot of fear mongering, talk of anarchy and threats of various apocalypse scenarios. If you believe the social media “preppers,” the apocalypse is coming in the form of World War Three, a plague, or UFOs.
Or maybe the world is eventually going to be underwater.
Well, if any of those scenarios are on the horizon, I can rest easy because I’m not a survivor. Nor do I want to be.
I’ve seen enough Thunderdome movies to know that I wouldn’t make it past the first week.
Here are things I do NOT bring to the table:
Weapons or the skills to use them. I’m pretty sure my throwing axes will only protect me if my attacker is 10 feet away and standing still.
Medical knowledge or herb lore. Despite the fact that my family jokingly calls me “Dr. Libby,” I’m really just a fast Googler. As for the herb lore, if it’s a nuclear attack, you can’t eat what would be left. If we’re floating around an endless ocean because of climate change, seaweed will only do you so much good. That’s pretty much the extent of my ocean flora knowledge.
Mechanical ability. I can barely work a screwdriver, and IKEA instructions make me break out in hives. So no, I won’t be the person who’s fixing machines, jumping car batteries or siphoning gas to save the day.
Procreation. My body is no longer equipped to produce offspring, much less offspring that would adapt to a post-apocalyptic new world. I’m pretty much a post-apocalyptic recessive gene.
Here’s what I DO bring to the apocalypse:
Humor. If you can’t laugh at the situation, you’ll cry. So maybe I can keep some people from falling apart by making snarky observations. I’ll eventually become a court jester.
Documentation. I can write down what happened and how people survived. I’m told I’m good with dialogue when I write fiction. I will explain the weird lines on our (underwater) roads and strange phrases future archeologists uncover, like “Let’s Go Brandon” and “what’s your Roman Empire.”
Medical Assistant (certain conditions only). When it comes to radiation poisoning, I’m your girl. People throwing up doesn’t bother me at all. But, if there’s an attack with a respiratory component, I’m out. Snot makes me dry heave.
Medicinal Alcohol. My house could be a temporary source of medicinal antiseptic and anesthesia, given our current supply of bourbon. Until those supplies run out, we can all figure out how to make moonshine from ash, instead of actual crops.
Realistically, by the time the apocalypse happens, us non-survivors will probably already be assigned red Star Trek security shirts so we’ll be easy to identify. That way, others won’t waste time trying to save us when they could be building a desalinization machine out of seashells.
So if you’re a McGyver, a Mike Rowe from Dirty Jobs, or someone who knows how to operate multiple vehicles, more power to you. You go all Thunderdome out there and keep the human race going. I’ll see you on the other side, wearing my shiny red sweater.
Filed under: Country Living, mental health, Misc. Humor, Posts | Tags: adulthood, animals, anxiety, Birds, cows, de-stress, family, health, humor, mental health, mindfulness, self-care, stress relief, videos
I know different people have different ways that they relax. My family, except for me, finds puzzling a fun, relaxing thing to do. Me? Not so much. I get frustrated and annoyed, partly because I don’t get instant gratification, but also because I’m competitive and it takes too long to get a win.
Wait – competitive…with puzzling? How is that possible?
Well, in our family, SOME people give each completed piece three annoying taps for completion emphasis. Dude, I saw it – no need to gloat-tap. Then there’s the secret and not-so-secret tally that they keep in their head…until they don’t.
So yes, puzzling can be competitive in our house, and it’s not relaxing.
But what I do find disturbingly relaxing is watching Nate the Hoof Guy on social media as he cleans, files, and repairs nasty cow hoof after nasty cow hoof.
It’s amazing.
At first, I thought I liked them because I love horses, and I also like watching farriers work at our barn – but it’s more than that.
Farriers of all kinds every day do back-breaking, precise work that requires a high level of knowledge, skill, experience and patience. What’s amazing is how much videos of what they do satisfy my need for the cleaning, leveling and instant gratification that comes from hoof cleaning. I think it’s a passive way for me to feel like there is control in a world where things often feel so out of control.
Yep, I could watch him sand the hooves, then scrape away layer by layer until the problem is found. Even the spraying away of all the dirt and manure and other barn funk is satisfying. And if he gets to the layer where an infection or abscess breaks through?
That is THE BEST.
And it’s not just horse people who watch these videos. I’ve had so many people admit that they also secretly watch them and find them satisfying. I guess it’s something along the lines of Dr. Pimple Popper. However, that show just grosses me out. Human fluids are just nasty.
Would it be healthier for me to just clean my own space better? Or spend as much time on my skin care routine as I do watching Nate care for those cow hooves? Probably. But if this is what I find relaxing at the end of the evening and it helps me wind down enough to read the same three sentences of my book before I fall asleep, well, I’m going to keep on watching.
Another soothing video to watch is the 3-hour video of birds at a feeder in the woods.
These were originally made for cats to watch, and that’s how I got started. Our elderly cat Izzy was sick before she passed away and became very needy. So, I set up my old laptop next to my work laptop and watched that video for hours at a time. She loved it – and so did I. Even though we live in the woods and I see virtually the same thing from my window, something about that video was incredibly soothing. For a few weeks after Izzy died, I still played the video to relax.
So, find what you need – it may not be videos, or reading – it may be music, or stretching or twirling your hair while staring into space. But in a world as crazy as ours is right now, I think it’s okay to find your stress relievers where you can.
Filed under: Middle Age, Misc. Humor, Posts | Tags: 2025, adulthood, anxiety, depression, goals, humor, life, mental health, new year, personal growth, positive, resolutions
Usually at this time of year I post something about New Year resolutions and re-post a previous blog about body image. And yes, one of my resolutions is to get back to writing this blog. (I’ll still repost the body image blog, because I think it’s valid.) But, this year I really want to remind everybody to take a second and look back over the last few months, or year, or even five years, and see how far you’ve come. For some of you, that may mean taking off your readers for a few minutes to see farther back than yesterday. I’ll wait while you tap the top of your head, trying to remember if you actually have them on or not.
You do, because otherwise you wouldn’t be able to read this.
Ready? Ok.
Anyway…New Year resolutions are all about becoming a better person, or maybe just being less of a dick. Side note – one of my favorite gifts this year is this dish towel:
So that’s where my expectations are for people these days.
However, I think that before you make unrealistic resolutions for 2025, you should take a look at the positive changes that have happened in your life over the last year. Sometimes they are huge, like getting a new job, losing a bunch of weight or cutting someone toxic out of your life. Sometimes they may be as small as learning a new skill at work, like the fact that not every email deserves a response, or making it through an entire movie without also playing a game on your phone or scrolling through social media.
And, sometimes things that seem small are in fact HUGE – like going through a dark time and just plodding your way through, one day after another, until things get just a little bit better.
Whatever you’ve accomplished, take a second to acknowledge that you have had some triumphs. If it’s not 9:00am, maybe even have a glass of champagne to celebrate – unless you’re doing the Dry January thing (which I am). In that case you can always choose to substitute alcohol with a giant box of Cheese-Itz or other favorite snack food (which I do on the regular now). I mean Jesus, give yourself SOME kind of reward. You say you’re not or can’t afford to be food/drink motivated? Then reward yourself with something you like to do. If I’m not eating Rice Krispy treats or cheese in any form, my reward is to read fairy smut.
Don’t judge.
Some of you like biographies about celebrities with drug and sex addictions, real-life thrillers with some truly screwed up characters, and self-help books that are just cringey. I was in the airport for a significant amount of time this weekend and I saw what y’all are reading. At least fairies are fake.
So before you get that planner you’ll never fill out, join that gym you’ll quit in two months or start on ruin your knees by running 3 miles a day when you’ve been a couch potato for the last year, remember that you accomplished some stuff this year. It’s not anybody else’s business what that was – they don’t know your experiences, struggles or inner goals that you set for yourself. Most likely they wouldn’t understand or appreciate it. But you do – so go get that cheese or champagne or book that you don’t want anyone to know that you read over and over again (I see you, ACOTAR people). You deserve a little celebration as well as a little improvement.
Subourbon Mom 