Monday 4 November 2013

50 is the new Black

And so I turned 50.

I thought it was going to come with a lot more pomp and circumstance. It is, after all, a milestone. I thought it would have its own parade and that it would come into my life with as much noise as a baby making its way into the cold, bright world. But alas, I was somewhat disappointed. Not because I didn't get a party, because I did. My family gave me a wonderful party and a Keurig. I got a Keurig for my 50th birthday. I wanted a Keurig and I got one. It's awesome.

No, the party was by no means a disappointment.

I think I had this notion of where I would be in my life at the age of 50. Perhaps I even had an idea of who I would be by the time I reached this ripe, not-so-young age. Given that as a teenager, I thought no further into my future than a week or so, maybe a month if Christmas was coming but I definitely did not imagine me at 50. And yet, here I am.

Do I have kids? No. And by extension, no grandkids. Did I expect to have either? Yes.

Do I own a house? Yes. Is it paid for? No. Did I expect to be close to burning my mortgage? Yes. Am I? No.

Am I in a relationship? Yes. Am I married? No. Did I expect to be married? Yes.Will that happen? I don't know the answer to that question, just like when I was half my age...no idea. Do I feel that I should have an idea of marriage at this age? Yes.

Let's see, other milestones. Do I have a retirement plan? Yes. Will it be sufficient when I retire? Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.Oh...oh...don't make me laugh. That hurts.

I have solved the "no kids" problem by enjoying the company of my niece and nephews and now, their kids. I get kick out of being with a four year old for about an hour. Then I get tired. I am 50 after all. Even if I had kids late, they'd be teenagers by now (or nearly).

The house won't be paid for until I'm 70 unless I win the lottery...more about that later. Between now and then I will try to unpack all the boxes.

There is definitely a man in my life. He sleeps in my bed, eats my food and calls me honey. He's cool. If I don't kill him I'll consider it a successful relationship.

My retirement plan is a series of lottery tickets and wanting to become a famous writer. I'm pretty sure I have to become an alcoholic first since most famous writers had a problem with the drink and I want to be famous. Really famous...which means liver damage. I'm not much of a drinker so this is going to be a toughie.

Next up is 60. I think if I make it to 60, I'll want another party. And maybe a new Keurig, it depends on how long this one lasts. And a big bottle of Bailey's to pour in the coffee. Happy birthday to me...happy birthday to me...happy birthday dear meeeeeee....happy birthday to me! And many more...

Wednesday 19 June 2013

The Pine Cone Dilemma

While we were golfing in Shallotte, North Carolina we came across some very interesting critters, not the least of which was a pine cone the size of a football. I decided to bring it home with me. The Canadian border agent had other ideas. She saw it in the back of the car, said we had to do a U-turn back to the US and toss it into the woods before we could enter Canada.

The US border agent's deadpan response when we explained why we needed access to his country for 3 seconds was, "Pine cones fall from trees." I think his between the lines message was "What the fuck, you crazy-ass Canucks!" He suggested we toss it in a garbage can at the Duty Free. We did.

Back at the Canadian border less than 5 minutes after our first attempt at re-entry, the previously ornery agent greeted us with a smile and a, "Well, hello again!" We told her what we did. She let us enter Canada safe in the knowledge that she had protected our country from the dreaded North Carolina pine cone of death.

To those of you who have collected bags full of pine cones and brought them home to use for Christmas crafts or other sundry purposes, you should be ashamed that you released pine cones on innocent citizens. Now Canada is only safe for Americans who know how to handle this horrific threat to life and limb. I think I'll go buy a gun. But what will I use for target practice?