Posts Tagged ‘friends’

How to turn 56

Posted: June 10, 2011 in funny stories
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Yep, today’s my birthday and it’s official – I am 56 years old.

Not quite sure how it happened, but it has.

I’m on “the other side” of 50. That means I am no longer in my early 50’s but now “approaching 60.”

Very strange concept. Can’t say that I like it and can’t say that it bothers me.

So, what’s the best way to celebrate turning 56?  Like this:

 

The correct way to turn 56 - party at Six Flags

So, that’s what I did. 11 of us spent last Saturday at Six Flags in the pouring rain and loved every minute of it.

The other great thing about my birthday is that I share it with Emma, my great niece who was born on the 9th but I am convinced she really was born on my birthday and that there is a great conspiracy to keep that fact quiet.

So Emma, who just turned 8, not only shares the same last name as I but the same birthday and nothing will convince me otherwise.

It was a great day that my sister arranged. We had a blast, had a wonderful dinner and I don’t remember that much after the 3rd drink. Well, I do, but it’s a bit fuzzy. Thank God my niece Vanessa was there to drive.

Some of these wonderful people sat in a hot tub or swam after dinner. I didn’t have a bathing suit to bring because, well, first of all, I threw them all away last year. I had lost a lot of weight and there was no way I was going to wear the “fat chick suit” for any reason.

Secondly, most women around my age really aren’t all excited of getting into a bathing suit. We’ll do it, but it’s not something we jump up and down about. Maybe if everyone else wearing one is our age, then it’s not such a big deal.

But to put on a suit when you don’t know who’ll be looking at your ass ? I might have IF I had a really hot suit to wear, but I didn’t and I didn’t want to spend my birthday weekend trying on bathing suits. I wanted to have a good time and not be stressed about my thighs.

No one looks good trying on bathing suits at Target with the harshest lights possible shining down on you in a little room with mirrors that make you look 10 pounds heavier and show every single flaw you have.

So, I passed on the idea and instead just hung-out, had fun, ate too much and enjoyed the company of some of the most wonderful people in the world.

Now I am getting all the birthday wishes on Facebook and it makes me smile. I forgot today was my birthday. It was so-last-week, but it really is today. I really am 56 today and I feel like it should matter, but it doesn’t.

I thought I would be stressed or worried about it, but I’m not. I’m glad I’m still here. I’m amazed I made it past 40, so everything after that is icing on the cake.

I love my life and there isn’t much I would change about it, so I really can’t complain. Well, OK, there is one thing I would change and that would be having someone to share it with who was human, not a pet, and a male. That would be kind of cool I think.

But then again, maybe not. The jury is still out on that.

And that’s cool with me.

 

My Friend At The Laundromat

Posted: June 3, 2011 in Uncategorized
Tags: , ,

My one friend is someone who drives a Datsun 240Z and if you are old enough to remember what that is, your secret will be safe with me.

It’s white and it looks like it has a million miles on it but he looks comfortable in it as if he is the original owner and has become one with his car. Just the way he sits back in it and reads. He has a ponytail (which I adore on some men) and almost always wears a cap. You know, the ones that make you think of England.

I usually pull-up a few spaces over from him. My routine is to park, grab my quarters, hid my purse and walk into the Laundromat with my basket of clothes. Once in a while we will nod to each other, but most of the time he appears to be quite engrossed in his book.

In all the years I’ve seen him, I’ve only seen him talk on his cell phone once. As for me, that’s the main thing I do while I wait for my laundry to be done. I’m bored, waiting out in the car, and I feel it’s my friends obligations to entertain me while I’m bored, so I start calling people.

It’s gotten now to where they know I am doing laundry. They will answer the phone, asking if my clothes are in the washer or the dryer. They are all smart asses.

I am a creature of habit and I’m still not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing.

After 3 years of seeing each other and doing our head nod, this guy finally spoke to me. I was, at the time, being mesmerized by my socks and underwear going round and round in the dryer. I can’t help but think what it would be like to be in there with them. Every time I watch a dryer, I have this thought.

He walked by, smiled and then stopped. I smiled back. Today he stopped, smiled and stood in front of me. Suddenly I didn’t know what to say, so I kept smiling.

I could see he was struggling with what to say. I wanted to start a conversation with him, just to ease up his agony, but I was suddenly tongue-tied.

I could see he had very blue and gentle eyes. I could hear the people in the background who were chattering, yelling at their kids and folding laundry and the constant hum of the machines.

“Hi. How are you today?” he asked.

“I’m bored. How are you?”

“Yeah, I’m bored too.”

He kept smiling and looking at me. Suddenly I was afraid he was going to ask me out for a cup of coffee. At that time, I had a boyfriend and it always seems that as soon as you hook-up with someone, suddenly you become the most desirable creature on the face of the planet to people who didn’t even know you existed before.

Then I thought I am just being silly and vain.

“I guess doing laundry is boring, isn’t it?” he asked. I couldn’t look away from his eyes. They were so blue and looked even bluer against his dark tan. This was someone who either spent a great deal of time working outdoors or went to a tanning salon. I hope it was the former because the latter would not have fit with my summation of him. Plus, it would have bummed me out because it would have ruined my illusion of him.

“Yeah, it is. I usually bring something to read but end up making phone calls instead. It’s like I can’t concentrate on a book when I’m outside.”

He looked at me like I was speaking Greek, but kept his smile going.

We chatted for a few minutes and then my dryer started beeping. I didn’t want to pull out my socks and underwear in front of him – hell, I don’t like to do that in front on anyone – so I ignored it. It could wait and no one would die.

Plus, it’s not like I fold my clothes, so no worries. I try but I usually end up just stuffing them in a drawer that has the fewest number of clothes in them.

He shuffled his feet, looked down at them. “Well, you have a good day,” he said as he walked away. I told him to do the same.

I waited until he was out the door before opening the dryer and shoving my clothes in the basket. It was a poor and pathetic basket; all torn up and hard to carry because both handles were broken, but in my everyday life, buying a laundry basket is not something I think about. I only think about it when I carry it on Sundays.

I put my laundry in the car and looked up and saw him sitting in his car, reading.

He didn’t look up as I drove away. I checked, slyly, to see if he had.

After three years, contact had been made.