Archive | February 2015

Thank You.

Thank You. There, see? I can say it.

Actually, I say thank you all the time.

Here’s your large Diet Coke!” “THANK YOU!”

“Would you like another prosecco?” “Why yes, thank you!”

“Cow, here’s an unlimited black AmEx! Go have fun!” “THANK YOU, FRUG!”

Hey, I love your boots!’

<awkward pause>

These? OMG, they are so old! I just found them in the back of my closet.”

“You look great tonight!

<awkward pause>

OMG, you’re joking, right? Look at these wrinkles? And my hair is all wrong!

Love that sweater!”

<awkward silence>

Got it at Target on clearance and it’s covered in cat hair and I’m hideous and LOOK AWAY!”

Compliments. Can you accept one?? Why is it so difficult?

Was with a group of friends last weekend and I was stumbling over the “Love your boots” thing and she said “Just say thank you.” And I just stared at her cluelessly. Just Say Thank You.


Part of it feels rude. Like, if you say “thank you“, the conversation is over abruptly. “Love your boots” “Thank You” and then it’s *crickets* whereas, “Love your boots” and “I bought them 10 years ago” can lead to “Really? Where did you get them?” and “What brand is that?” etc.

And a compliment on your appearance?? Eep. It feels too much like agreement. “Love your hair!” “Thank you” –>> That’s right. My hair is stellar and I am gorgeous and I think I’m fabulous! ┬áCan’t let that kind of self-esteem out, right?? It seems arrogant to me. Maybe it’s an American thing?

Technically, yes, just say thank you. I’m working on it. Accepting compliments without bring up myriad flaws still makes me feel queasy though.

Anyone else feel like that???

Terrible News

I. Am. Old.

Turned fortyfuckingNINE yesterday. I mean, there’s no way around the fact that that’s not young. How did this happen?? I swear I was a youthful and sassy 39 not that long ago.

Even worse, no amount of diet and exercise and grooming can hide the fact that I am not young anymore. As part of my bday celebration, I did a girls weekend in NYC. Much prep went into it. I waxed all the body parts and shaved those that I didn’t wax (*nods at finger knuckles and toe knuckles*) I planned (read: did the purchase/return cycle so much that the Frug’s head is going to spin around) outfits. I had fresh highlights, a haircut, I even tinted my brows!

Oh, and for my big Saturday night out, we had the Glam Squad come to do blowouts and makeup!


Middle aged soccer mom.


Actually, according to the sainted Ashlee, I looked like a “middle aged gym teacher“…which is much, much better, right?


I mean, if I can’t groom and retail my way to a youthful glow, WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?

Accept it?


Hell no.