Never too old for...feeling sad when a celebrity dies

Right before I turned off the computer to head to bed last night, I learned that 44-year-old comedian Greg Giraldo died yesterday.

Comedy is my favorite way to de-stress from life. I know most all the comedians, going back to the days of George Carlin. Well, I don't mean I know them personally, although there's several I'd love to get together with once in a while. I mean I've watched them for years and know their particular shticks, and a bit of their personal histories. I certainly know which ones I find to be funny, which ones are funny, but dirty, and which ones are a waste of my time.

Greg Giraldo was one of my top 5 favorite funny guys - of all time.
When I learned he had died, I gasped loud enough that my little beagle/dachshund mix, who is permanently attached to my lap, raised his head to see what was going on. I also woke up my husband, who had been asleep before me for about an hour, to tell him as he's also a big Giraldo fan.

Evidently, Giraldo died in a New Jersey hospital where he had been admitted after an accidental prescription drug overdose a few days ago. There will probably be an autopsy to answer several questions. For the record, I do not believe Greg Giraldo would have harmed himself
deliberately. He was hilarious, intelligent, sexy as heck, respected by other comedians, and very successful. He was a Harvard Law School graduate and was loved by a wife and 4 children. That's not normally a life from which escape would be desired.

My husband and I will miss incorporating Greg's sarcastic musings into our everyday conversations. Not that we'll stop; it will just be a bummer to not have new material periodically. We do this cute back and forth frequently, pantomiming Giraldo's little tales and then dissolving into little puddles of laughter.

In a world that seems to value being thin or being intolerant more than being healthy and loving, the gift of laughter is an honorable legacy. It is the gift you left this middle aged couple, Greg, and we thank you. RIP.

~ Until next time, readers, don't act your age! ~

Never too old for...a new career

People of all ages are losing their jobs these days. If you, your children, or grandchildren are lucky enough to have a job not affected too harshly by the economy's ups and downs, there probably hasn't been much discussion about this topic around your place.

But if there have been pink slips, unemployment compensation checks, and the continuous submissions of resumes and applications, with call-backs being far and few between, take heart. If a particular industry isn't on top at the present time, this is a good time to find one that is.

There are several industries out there literally begging for people. Some will require a few years of formal education, something you, your child, or grandchild may already have. Some involve learning a trade, like electricians, and require a year or so of specialized training.

There are still others that only require a few months of class and practical work before a graduate can walk off to a nearly lay off-free career. And even better, there are grants and scholarships for many of these programs, lowering your or your loved one's out of pocket costs to a minimal amount.

One great example is the scholarship program offered by
Sally Beauty.

There are 7 scholarships of $1,000 available and the deadline for submission of applications is November 14, 2010. All the particulars can be found at the link above.

There are also grants and scholarships for student assistance from the federal government. Check out the U.S. Department of Education's Office of Federal Student Aid for all the info.

Another all-over great resource, especially for women seeking assistance for education, is Women Grants & Scholarships.

~ Until next time, don't act your age! ~

Never too old for... disorganization

You would think I'd be getting more organized as I get older. In reality, I'm getting older trying to get more organized.

It used to be pretty easy. Twice a year, I'd take a whole week and dedicate 30 minutes every day to each room of the house. Going room by room, through every item, I'd make decisions. The genius of this method centered about being able to separate the items into one of four piles: 1) Items to keep due to a practical use or sentimental value; 2) Items to keep that required repair; 3) Items to give away to charity;
and 4) Items to throw away. Woosh! Before I knew it, I had a house that looked like it had been redecorated by an efficiency expert.

These days, this organization thing is taxing. It's not the number of cheese graters I own that's getting on my nerves. And I'm not one of those people who trip over piles of National Geographic issues from thirty years ago. Nope, I am just simply snowed under with - paper. During the past 20 years, we have accumulated enough paper work to wallpaper every house on our street and that's the sort of thing you can't divide into four tidy categories.

I have a shredder. Last week I moved it from the office in our house, where it wasn't seeing much action, to right beside the chair where I sit to go through the mail. I show no mercy on the various pieces of paper that make it into our mail box. I only wish I could roll that shredder around the rest of the house, dividing and conquering all four of those piles I mentioned earlier.

And then, onward and upward, also shredding the non-paper items in our house that keep the place off the pages of House and Garden.

And then, come to think of it, there are a couple of people I know...

Until next time, don't act your age.

Never too old for...nail color

The title of this blog seems obvious. But here's an actual statement found on a well-known fashion and style web site just last week: "Women of a certain age should keep their nails short and wear only light pink or clear polish."

Good thing I'm not a woman of a certain age.

Since college days, I've used my nails to rebel. I attended a religious school my first two years and got into trouble for wearing what they called, "harlot" nail polish. Actually, "Harlot Red" would be a fantastic name for a international nail polish line.

But I digress...

The powers that be at school called me to task about my red polish.

What I should have done: Removed the red polish and stayed with pale pink, as the Dean of Women suggested, for the duration of the school year, wearing what I pleased during summer break.

What I did: Bought a 6-color polish kit and got everybody's jaws flapping over my sometimes orange, sometimes green, sometimes purple, sometimes blue, and even black fingernails. Yes, there was red polish in that kit, possibly the most subdued color in the bunch, but hey, I had been told to not wear red anymore. So I didn't. The crazy thing about this was that I never heard another word about my nails after I "de-harlotted" myself.

So, what does a woman of a certain age with a certain rebellious streak that goes back a few decades do when she reads someone in 2010 say the same sort of thing she was told back in the Stone Age? The same thing I did back then.

Something outrageous.

Since I play piano, I can't wear my nails too long or they get struck in between the keys. I'm cheap about upkeep, so I'm not interested in acrylic or gel nails. Instead, I settled for something like this...




How do you like me now, Dean?

One of the great things about being "of a certain age" is that when I do something nutty, I can just smile and mumble something about, "finding my muse."

Whether you're like me and still like to experiment, or you just want nice quiet fingertips, check out the great polish colors and nail art at Sally Beauty one of my very favorite online places to shop for all that is girly.




~ Until next time, don't act your age! ~

Never too old for...playing in the rain

I played in the rain last week and I liked it.

When I was young, I loved getting wet and exploring all the ways to make it happen. Whether I was practicing my television commercial spokesperson career in the bathtub, splashing around in my blue plastic backyard pool,  or begging for 10 minutes in every motel swimming pool along our summer vacation route, I got my mermaid on frequently. I certainly went out of my way to get caught outside during summer showers.

Fortunately, I grew up, got reasonable, and shook off all my foolish ways - not!

We're never too old for the unexpected!

 About 40-some years later - this past Sunday, to be exact -  I was doing my back exercises in our pool and it started to rain. It was a hot, humid day that produced a steady rain, not the soaking or pounding kind. There was no thunder or lightening. It was the perfect kind of rainfall I would expect in heaven.

At first, the reasonable adult in me flipped out a bit and demanded I leave the pool. Then my inner little girl whined, "Hey, you're already wet and this will be fun!" The "I wanna" child in me won out and I stayed in the pool, splashing and swimming around and watching the rain dance on the water surface. I closed my eyes and let the tap, tap, tap of the rain drops hypnotize me. I leaned back and closed my eyes to allow the warm drops to sting my face. It was a magical time, just the sort of thing we're never too old to enjoy.

If you've gotten to play in the rain lately and it brought a smile to your face, tell me about it under the "Post a Comment" section below.

~ Until next time, don't act your age! ~

Never too old for... a maid

Perhaps it's the summer of my discontent, but when I turned 57 in July, I decided it was time for a maid. But I'm not talking about the traditional sort of domestic helper here.

Actually, if I weren't happily married to the sweet man snoring beside me in bed tonight as I write this, I would be interviewing for a handsome young man to stop by once a week and clean the house, the pool, the car, the dogs, the dishes, the dryer vent...

Ah, but I digress...

I have bone spurs and degenerative arthritis in my lower back, and the pain is truly excruciating at times. But I'm in good health otherwise and usually feel like I'm only about 40. I don't need a maid - yet. However, my pain is worse when I have to stand or walk for any length of time, so I do need some help. I'll cheer anything that can keep me from having to walk, walk, walk, or do a lot of bending and stretching, movements the doctors say I should avoid.

After performing lots of Internet research, I found Alice. Where has she been all my life? She tracks down our favorite brands, even some I've forgotten, and she gets them directly from the manufacturer. (Think "less mark up!") She saves us money on everything from razors to fabric softener. We don't have to waste gasoline going from store to store to catch all the sales. And no matter how big our order, we never have to pay to have it all shipped right to our back door, all of which also helps my back enormously.

Alice is a really efficient resource for men and women of all ages and I'm excited to share her with all of you. Alice will not charge you a fee, yet she'll get you the very best deals on your choice of brands, she'll remind you when it's time to reorder, and she'll track down any available coupons for the items as you order them. Check her out. I think you'll find Alice is an angel.

~ Until next time, don't act your age! ~

Never too old for...finding our artsy fartsy

I found - and lost - my artsy fartsy in my 4th grade art class. We were being taught depth perception and had to draw telephone poles as practice. The poles were to be drawn so that someone looking at the drawing would see them slowly receding into the distance. For some reason, my "eye" didn't understand the concept and, as a result, my telephone polls ended up in a straight line across the page, like they were all waiting for a bus.

The teacher walked the aisles to take up our drawings and paused when she got to me. She looked at my paper, held it up for the other students to see, then led the class in a group chuckle about what she called "the stick men poles." Yes, I know. Humiliation issues. But that's a topic for another blog.

My artsy fartsy went AWOL. I didn't draw again until my early 50s. Because of a thoughtless grade school teacher, I remained convinced for decades that I had no talent for that sort of thing.

Thankfully, I am not without any artistic flair. I write. I play the piano and I love arranging flowers. But one night a few years ago, after everyone had gone to bed, I opened a water color set I'd received as a gift on my 50th birthday. I doodled around a bit and ended up drawing a big, colorful flower. There was no one there to make fun of it and doing it made me feel good. There have been several more drawings since then and I think I've got my artsty fartsy back!

If you've lost and found your artsy fartsy, please share the story with me here, under "Comments."

Note:
One of my favorite ways to enjoy a balmy day in Florida is cruising an arts and crafts festival. There are at least eight scheduled around the sunshine state before the end of the year. You can find more information about each one by visiting ArtFestival.com

~ Until next time, don't act your age! ~

Never too old for...gettin' your jelly on

Anyone besides me remember the 60s song by Tommy Roe, "Jam Up and Jelly Tight"? I think of that song every time I get my jelly on. Say what? Yeah, I said jelly. I try to take a jelly bath once a week. Never had a jelly bath? Trust me; it's like nothing you've ever experienced.

The past 3 years have been a time of discovery for me. My chronic back pain and desire to get rid of it has let me to the Internet to do lots of research for non-drug treatments. It was during one of those searches that I stumbled upon jelly baths. The article said these indulgent, fragrant delights can ease pain and even claimed they can pamper at a fraction of the cost of any spa.

Now, I'm not talking about opening a few boxes of gelatin and pouring it in as my bath water fills the tub. The product is aptly called Jelly Bath and comes in a little box of granules that melt into your bath water. Only it doesn't stop there. Jelly Bath actually changes the "viscosity" of your bath water into a scented Jell-O mold that cocoons you with warm, soft, sensual, scented wonderfulness. Supposedly, it retains your bath's heat four times as long as a regular bath.

I do know I am able to relax and meditate longer than regular bath times use to allow. The whole experience makes me feel like a kid whose dream has come true - the one where I fall into a big pot of the jiggly stuff and have to eat my way out.

Jelly Bath comes in four different fragrances to address various needs. There's my favorite, herb mint, spot-on for general aches and pains or stuffed up noses. Lavender is perfect for relaxing before bed after a crazy day. If you are battling dry skin, the calming milk formulation will be a hit, and lemon grass is amazing as a therapeutic little foot soak.

I don't care how old we get, none of us will ever be too old to wear lipstick and to get our jelly on! Try it soon and let me know under "Comments" what you think.

~ Until next time, don't act your age! ~

Never too old for...grace

On December 28, my husband and I will celebrate five smoke-free years. I get asked all the time how we broke that horrible habit. My husband struggled a bit and had to exert some extra self-discipline to make our cold turkey method work for him, but the whole quitting thing was very easy for me. The quitting was easy and the staying quit has been even easier.

Easy? How can that be? I have no answer other than to say anything's easy when grace is involved. My husband said he drew strength from me quitting which helped him persevere. But how did I quit? Me, with a very, very dedicated 20-year, one to two pack-a-day, habit?

I can only say it really wasn't me who quit. It was God's grace that allowed me to see my way to stop smoking. Without sounding preachy here, I want to say there's simply no way I quit under my own steam. I didn't have that kind of willpower when it came to cigarettes. Actually, I hadn't even been thinking about quitting when I did. A non-smoking lifestyle was simply handed to me and there will never be enough words to express my appreciation.

Grace is something wonderful that comes to us without our asking. It's a precious gift, a delicious surprise. Grace is like an unexpected guest who stays a night and upon departure, leaves behind a refrigerator filled with fresh, delectable food - without being asked for a thing.

The Rolling Stones knew about grace, singing, "You can't always get what you want...but sometimes...you just might find you get what you need."

Grace is something God knows we need and mercifully, He gives it freely. But as humans, we don't always recognize it. Has grace ever amazed you in your own life? If so, I'd love to hear from you. Just post a reply to this blog and please share your experience.

~ Until next time, don't act your age! ~

Never too old for...a shoe club

For the first 22 months of my life, I had one pair of shoes to my name. I still have them, tiny white Mary Janes, with thin little straps across the tops. They were very tight and the soles so thin it seemed I had been busy running from something, rather than toward someone. It's a long story, and involves four different foster homes. Yes, I know, abandonment issues, but that's a whole other blog.

During college, I had maybe four pairs of shoes; red flip flops and three pairs of boots. Who needed more back then? The boots, all hippy chic, saw lots of action as I hiked myself all over a huge college campus in rain and sleet and snow, oh, no, wait, that was the mail man.

Since my 20s, eight or nine pairs of small heels and flats have lived in my closet. No sexy heels. I had fallen in my early 30s, busted up an ankle pretty badly, and been told by an orthopedist to nix the heels or face extensive surgery to repair the ligament.

I love heels. But I love not having surgery better.

As a result, I'm no shoe diva. Until recently, all my shoes were of neutral colors and purchased mainly to go with specific outfits. I didn't pay much for any of them, most of them were at least 15 years old, and I really only wore three or four pairs on a regular basis.

Today I have 20 pairs of shoes for which I've paid less than $50 each and I wear them all. Hey, I even have a shoe organizer! I have one black pair and one brown pair, but the others are of various colors, from taupe to rose, sienna to gray/blue. Yes, they're still low heels or flats, but I am finally foot fashionable.

No, I didn't win the lottery and decide to buy a pair of shoes for every year I've been around. (OK, I'm not 20 - surprise!) I discovered Shoe Dazzle, a fun little shoe club. It's free to join and every month, they'll send you a link to view your own personal showroom (based on your personal preferences) and you can choose a pair of shoes, a handbag, or set of accessories for only $39.95. You can skip any month you don't want anything and there's no pressure to buy a certain number of items each year. I've really had a lot of fun with Shoe Dazzle and my feet are happy about it too.

Mostly, I'm just tickled to pieces to have made it to age 57 (yes, there were a couple of close calls through the years) and be happy and healthy enough to enjoy dishing up shoes with the girls.

~ Until next time, don't act your age! ~

Never too old for...the word, "No."

Like many women, I've spent most of my life fairly calm and focused. I'm OCD enough to know that I require a tighter than normal level of organization to accomplish all I need and want to do in a day's time.

There have been a few occasions when I've been the antithesis of all of that. I think I've grown a souvenir gray hair for every one of those times, hence the need these days to get highlights. When my life has collapsed into chaos, it's always been the same culprit: I've said, "Yes" when I should have said, "No."

"No" is universal. "No" is honest. "No" is a complete sentence.

Not using "the tool of no" eventually depletes us. With each "Yes" we give away another chunk of personal energy. We become targets for people out there who don't take care of themselves and who steal positive energies from those who work hard to develop them.

I just finished a book which actually prompted this blog entry. "Emotional Freedom: Liberate Yourself from Negative Emotions and Transform Your Life" by Judith Orloff reminds the reader that saying, "No" is a perfectly acceptable way of taking care of oneself without making any apologies.

When we've been around this planet for over five decades and survived the bumps and breaks life brings, "No" may well be the best fountain of youth we'll ever discover. You can find Orloff's book here:





~ Until next time, don't act your age! ~

Never too old for...primer

Every man with whom I've ever had a significant relationship has told me I have great skin and don't need makeup to be pretty. I've always figured it was because they just wanted to get me out the door and into the car so we wouldn't be late to wherever we were going.

It never dawned on me they told me this because it was true. OK, yes, I admit to some self esteem issues, but that's another post entirely.

We all know women who can go without makeup and basically look good, no matter their age. Of course, there are others who shouldn't leave their house without first "putting on face." At 57, I'm somewhere in the middle, although my husband still thinks I don't need makeup. (Isn't he just precious?)

I think once we reach our fifth decade on this planet, previous bad habits have caught up with our skin. Did we worship the sun when we were young? Did we smoke? Did we frequently fall asleep with our makeup on? Did we go without sunglasses and squint into the sun a lot? Whatever we did 30 years ago plays out on our complexion today in terms of uneven skin tone, puffiness, under eye circles, and wrinkles.

For beauty's safe, you could go under the knife. You could buy tons of concealer or that air brush gizmo allegedly used by the stars. Or you could buy a foundation primer, a product I guarantee will help mute out youthful indiscretions and make your skin look smooth and well-rested, whether you like full face makeup, or choose to go without it altogether.

I love trying various beauty products which is why I'm surprised I just discovered primer last year. Foundation primer goes on over your moisturizer and before your foundation. Primer helps someone like me, with oily skin and some sun damage from my 20s, maintain a smooth facial surface that stays flawless for several hours. And if you can find one that has "luminizing" properties, it will reflect light and make you look like you've had 9 hours of sleep.

I've tried three different brands of primer during the past three months and so far, my favorite is Smashbox Photo Finish Foundation Primer. It contains vitamins, grape seed extract, and green tea, and is shown here.




Foundation primer is a little gift for ourselves we're never too old for and a nice little secret to pass on to others.

~ Until next time, don't act your age! ~

Never too old for...a personal shopper

One of the delicious things about losing weight, no matter your age, is you get to think about new clothes. Smaller clothes. More revealing clothes. Lined clothes. Any color but black clothes. Fitted clothes. Oh, and spending money on clothes; let's not forget how much fun that can be.

Maybe you're like me, and many other women who have spent the better part of our adult lives taking a few pounds off here and there, and putting even more back on, and you haven't really had time or money to keep up with fashion since your 20s. Here's a quick test: Do you think "vegetables" when you hear the phrase "season finds"?

As a teenager, I had friends conscious of nothing more than clothes, hair, nails - and boys, of course. As the years rolled by, we focused on college, careers, husbands and children. And even though we usually managed to pull ourselves together pretty good most of the time, we lost some of our edge as we got older. We endured the pregnancies, illnesses, and stressful people and jobs as time kept up its frantic pace, and one day we were 57. Whew!

For most of our adult lives, we've had only ourselves (and maybe an adoring spouse or life companion) to consult about our appearance. But these people have usually been dependent on us for something, i.e, dinner, clean laundry or occasional sex, so what kind of constructive criticism are they going to offer - really?

That's why I got all excited when I found MyShape, an online women's clothing and fashion web site. MyShape isn't just another Internet-based store; they offer something called "Personal Shop." If you provide them with your measurements and info about your preferences, they'll calculate your body shape and style. You can even design your own jeans at MyShape, something I'm planning on doing before winter sets in.

Based on facts about you and you alone, not those of cookie cutter categories, MyShape will come up with choices of trendy outfits and accessories that will help you look and feel like you've just come from a pricey tailor's shop. And that's the kind of shape for which a gal can never be too old!

~ Until next time, don't act your age! ~