I never thought I’d live to see the day where BuzzFeed ran a
middle-aged list, but here it is, “20 Things New Yorkers Over 40
Did.” I haven’t done a lot of these things, actually.
Somehow the temperature dropped to the 60s (?!) overnight?
Practically 30 degrees lower than last week. No offense to anyone who gave me a
gift, but I’d say this is the best birthday present of them all.
Oh, and I detailed coloring my hair for xoJane. Read
“Beauty Dare: Going Gray on Purpose When You’re Not 25 Like Rihanna).”
One problem with birthdays is that I end up overspending on
things I don’t need in the name of self gifting.
I don’t buy Hello Kitty stuff anymore unless it seems
particularly adult (no, not this breed of adult). I liked the idea of a Swedish
fashion designer appropriating Hello Kitty into products when I read about it
earlier this year, so I went searching for a US source (not easy) and bought
this birch tray. It seems taht Gretel is where to look if you want modern
Scandinavian things online. I also bought the last set of these green rubber
lace-look coasters because they were on clearance.
At Nordstrom I bought these gray knee-high boots that I’m
returning because they’re not that gray and fit weirdly. Also, a blue lace
dress that I’m not sure will fit or not and won’t know until later today
because it hasn’t arrived yet. This green necklace was cheap, so I bought it
too. I’ll always buy something extra if it’s green and inexpensive. I also
bought my first pair of Spanx against my better judgment, mostly because they
were on sale, partially because I can’t wear anything form-fitting without
looking pregnant (I’m thinking of eliminating
alcohol in August to see if this helps any–I’m fairly good at limiting starch
and sugar as it is and that has little effect on my paunch, so alcohol is the
only thing left to try) and I want to see what the fuss is about. Restrictive
undergarments are useless in the typical humid NYC summers, so today I may luck
I want this book Suburbia Gone Wild, but resisted because
it’s pricey plus projects like this make me feel bad because it’s exactly the
sort of thing I’d like to do but don’t.
Books are always a good gift because others pick things I
would never think to read on my own. My
sister sent San Miguel by T.C. Boyle, The Crimson Petal and the White by Michel
Faber, Ten Thousand Saints by Eleanor Henderson and The Fortress of Solitude by
Jonathan Lethem, plus an Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore DVD so I can indulge
my fantasy of being a blue collar single mom in the ’70s. I was going to say
that I’m clearly getting too old for that scenario, but Ellen Burstyn was 42 in
that film, so I still have year to come up with a grade school aged son and
have a Kris Kristofferson (what a Scandinavian name for Hollywood) romance. I don’t have time for italicizing everything fyi.
I don’t think I’ve eaten a chicken nugget or tender in over
20 years and yet I ate them twice in the past two weeks, once at an Irish pub
near my office and then at a New Jersey Cheesecake Factory in my Fried Chicken
Salad. I wonder if this a boneless, spineless harbinger of what’s to come over
the next decade. (And by the way, martinis with blue cheese olives are four
dollars cheaper at Bonefish Grill than Cheesecake Factory, which is why
Bonefish will always rule.)
And, ugh, I completely forgot to watch This is 40 while I
was still 40. I made an effort last year to immerse myself in Thirtysomething
while I was still thirtysomething. This
does not bode well for the year of 41.
And even though I just posted a photo of myself and I try to
keep these to a minimum, I must stick with the tradition of putting one up each