Becoming Andy Rooney

I've been sick for over two weeks now.  The thing about getting old is it takes longer to recover from everything.  Even going to the grocery store requires I have a little down time to recuperate now.  But, having an illness or an injury is the absolute worst.  And I want to complain about it all the time.  How shitty I feel.  How I exhausted I am. But, no one cares.  I'm just an old curmudgeon with a plethora of grievances.  I've become Andy Rooney.

No one thinks they're going to become Andy Rooney (especially if it comes with the overgrown eyebrows and hunchback posture).  I'm pretty sure Andy Rooney didn't even want to be Andy Rooney.  But, sooner or later, it happens to all of us.  But, it happens so gradually you hardly even notice.  And then, before you know it you're that person who's outraged that the sign in the express line at the grocery store says '15 items or less' instead of fewer.  Or you're shocked that people don't know how to balance a checkbook anymore.

[As I write this it's 6:30am on Sunday morning and I've been up for an hour.  My husband just got out of bed and brought me an inhaler because, apparently, I've been coughing (completely unaware that I've been doing so) since I got up at 5:30am.  (Old people get up early, even on the weekends.) As a doctor, he's diagnosed me with asthma.  Which I think is a load of crap.  I've just had a cough for the past 9 years.  And hell if I'm going to use an inhaler and then become dependant on it.  All to solve a problem I don't even have. (Old people often live in denial.)]

Before I got sick with this respiratory illness (that I have no idea how I got because I'm basically a hermit who hangs out at home writing, reading and balancing my checkbook), I suffered an elbow injury back in December which aches constantly.  I feared it was Tennis Elbow; I also worry that I'm going to develop Carpal Tunnel Syndrome and/or Arthritis, which would restrict me from doing the things I love. My husband says it's just overuse and that I need to rest it. Yeah...how do I not use my elbow on my right arm?  I'm right handed.  And among all the other things I do, like laundry and making dinner, I also scribble reminder notes for myself on scraps of paper (which I later lose) with that hand.  Which is very important at this age.  Not to mention, balancing my checkbook. Making it impossible for me to rest my elbow.  Plus, as my husband likes to remind me,  I'm old, so it's going to take me even longer to heal.  So forget that, I've got to do stuff now while I still can. Before I die.

Last weekend my husband's band played a gig at a bar.  Thank god, he was slated to perform at 7:30pm: the early bird special.  I was already exhausted and just the thought of socializing at a bar on a Friday night depleted me even more.  Then, when the waitress came over to take my drink order she carded me.  Are you even joking?  Don't patronize me. Look at the scowl lines on my face.  Do young people have these?  I have earned each and every one of them.  On top of that, she was one of those people who calls everyone by a term of endearment like "baby", "honey", "sugar", which I hate. It's cringeworthy, as my youngest would say.  Especially because she's 26 (I know this after she made me guess her age, which is also really annoying) making her young enough to be my daughter.  So really, I should be the one calling her "baby".

Then, I'm sitting at this table by myself when my husband's band comes on when this couple (that I know I know from somewhere, but I can't figure out where) joins me.  First of all, they don't even acknowledge my existence.  No..."is this seat taken"?  No eye contact.  Nothing.  Weird, right? Then, at the end of every song, they just sit there.  No clapping.  Nothing.  Where are your manners?  Can you get up and do it better?  Are you waiting for them to play Free Bird?  What's it gonna take for you to clap?  It still pisses me off to think about it.  And the fact that I still can't figure out where I know them from.

My transformation to Andy Rooney is complete.

The Mystery of Daylight Savings Time

Has anyone even asked daylight savings time if it wants to be saved?  Can't we just have a 5k run to save it like we do with everything else in America instead of changing the clocks?  And would it be possible to just roll this daylight savings time into my IRA?  Because why the hell do we have daylight savings time?  What are we saving it from? An abusive relationship with nightfall?

It's one of those American cultural things we do that we have no idea why we do it.  Kind of like asking people how they are.  We don't actually want to know the real answer, so why do we ask the question?  Because that's what we've always done.  And that's what our parents did.  That's what we're supposed to do.  Same with saving the daylight.  Or not switching over to the metric system. It just doesn't make sense.

But, the difference between coveting inches and saving daylight is that we're not the only ones still holding on to this tradition for no apparent reason.  And we Americans didn't even invent it.  It was invented by a entomologist in New Zealand who wanted more time to look for bugs after work.  Seriously.  And then the British proposed it.  But, it really took off when the Germans were looking for ways to reduce energy costs in WWI.  And that's when we jumped on the bandwagon and it became law in 1918.  Because we were a country run on coal and changing the clocks back then did actually save us energy.  

Now we just do it because we've always done it this way.  And who doesn't like to go listen to live music in a local park in July and have picnic dinner on a Tuesday night after work?  Except that eventually you'll have to use the overused porta potty there.  What about waiting until 10pm until it's dark enough to see a movie at the drive-in only to get eaten by mosquitoes?   That and it's really hard to convince a little kid that it's that bed time when it's not dark outside yet.  Not to mention that your house doesn't cool down until 1am if you don't have air conditioning.  And you know how depressing it is in November when we're done saving the daylight and it's pitch black at 5pm again.  Plus the revert back is linked to higher heart attack risks and car accident fatalities.

Wait, why are we saving the daylight again?

Fashion Trends I Like (On Other People)

Photo from Pinterest

There are actually a lot of fashion trends I like.  Not that you'd know that from what I wear, because I don't wear them.  I find that I like them better on other people.  Other women who are willing to put in the work and suffer the discomfort to pull them off.  I'll let them be slaves to fashion, while I remain a slave to comfort.

Let's work from head to toe.  Bangs can look so edgy.  Bonus, when you're in your forties they also  provide cover for the lines on your forehead.  Making it a very multi-purpose, strategic style.  Unless you look horrible in bangs, like I do.  I know because I had them in the late 80's and I looked like Michelle Duggar.  Which is why I'll never get them again.  Nor will I ever go blond.  Although I'm a fan of that baby blond that's almost platinum, but not quite.  I just don't have the personality to go with it.  Plus, I'm lazy.  I get my hair colored and cut semi-annually and even that exhausts me.  And that subtle cat eye look?  Have you tried it?  I'm convinced that women who get their black eyeliner to look the same on both sides are witches.  And while I love the colors that lipstick comes in (and ogle it at the store), I don't wear it because I don't look good in it.  Not only that, it makes my teeth look yellow.

Whenever I'm shopping and I see a poncho I'll always try to figure out a way to justify buying it.  But, I can't.  They give off such a whimsical, I'm-hanging-out-at-a-fun-fall-festival-where-there's-a-chill-in-the-air-but-it's-not-too-brisk vibe.  However, poncho weather only happens exactly 10 minutes out of every year.  And fall festivals are never as fun as you imagine they're going to be.  But, most importantly, ponchos are so incredibly impractical.  It's like wearing a big afghan your grandma crocheted for you and then dredging it through everything you touch.   It's much the same with the new bell sleeves that are so popular right now.  I bought an adorable bell sleeve sweater earlier this year.  And when I wore it for the first time I realized I'm also relagated to wearing everything I eat on my sleeves.  But, it is like a built-in napkin, so there's that.  And forget lighting candles in it, especially if the shirt is made out of a really flammable fabric.  Honorable mention: I also love white button down shirts.  But I don't wear them for two reasons:  I don't iron and I'd be sure to stain it with the first wear.   

Oooohhh pencil skirts, how I love you.  Except I don't live a pencil skirt lifestyle.  I live more of a twill capri lifestyle.  But, I don't like twill or capris.  And I hate shorts.  I hate them so much.  However, I love jeans so much that I wear them every day.  Even when it's hot and I hike.  I buy them in a dark wash and size up to account for shrinkage.  Then, I wear them until they're almost obscene: tight, faded with holes all over them.  That's right, I'm an old-fashioned girl, so I like to earn the holes in my jeans.  Also, why the hell is the inseam on women's jeans so damn long?  We're not all six foot tall long-legged Amazon princesses.  Which is why I often cut the bottom hem right off so they're frayed.  Which oddly, looks like it's trending right now.  I'd like credit for starting this lazy-ass trend years ago!

Oh I could make my short legs look longer by wearing heels I suppose.  I used to wear heels with pencil skirts to work back in my 20s.  And then I turned 30.  And then overnight, I stopped caring if I had visible panty lines while wearing my ass-hugging skirts.  And I realized life was far too short to go hobbling through it because my feet hurt constantly.  Plus, I never really could walk in the damn things anyway.  Partly because I walk really fast.  Which probably makes me look like I'm rushing to the ladies room.  Flats are the obvious answer.  I'd look like Audrey Hepburn in a pair of ballet flats.  I've tried.  And I don't.  The thing with ballet flats is you don't wear socks or you wear those thin, tiny no show socks.  Either way, my feet are always cold.  And when my feet are cold, they sweat.  (I know that doesn't make sense. Welcome to my world.)  So, if there's something that looks worse than me walking in heels, it's me looking like I'm race-walking in ballet flats while sliding on the foot sweat in the bottom of my shoe.  

And this is why I wear t-shirts, jeans and sneakers every day and have resigned myself to appreciating fashion trends on other people.