Showing posts with label dating. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dating. Show all posts

Sunday, March 9, 2025

The Adventures of Peri-Menopausal Cinderella

Happy almost Spring, everyone! We made it, or damn near there. I'm sure we'll have a few random snowstorms here in Chicago until May, but it won't stay around long as the worst weather is in the rear view. Well done, everyone.

Some of you remember that for several years, I have been desperately trying to scam an online dating scammer, as it is my duty.  Not all heroes wear capes, after all.

I'll back up for the uninitiated. Approximately 30% of the profiles on apps like Bumble or Tinder are fake. Here's how it works: One dude, probably in Nigeria, China, or Romania, runs multiple profiles and maintains numerous conversations with women until he hooks an idiot and convinces them to part with their money, typically by sending gift cards of some kind or another. 

Here are two examples of scammers that I have failed to ensnare, both times because of my peri-menopausal rage kicked in prematurely before the bait was set.



This makes me furious, as the victims are merely women--and men--who are just trying to find a connection, which is why I typically lose my cool before setting my own hook.

I've had some promising starts but have never made it too far. My method is I swipe on all the obvious scammers and then just wait. Sadly, I think I'm in a particularly vulnerable age group. Older women are easily flattered by attention from younger guys..I get it. Not my first rodeo with younger guys, as I'm sure you all remember from this blog. 

Below is a sampling of some of the real guys who hit my dating app feeds. I know. I'm so lucky to still be out there with so many promising candidates. Adam, for example is 99 and just wants to suck toes. 


The Invisible Years

Here's another fun fact: women my age are absolutely invisible to a significant portion of the male population. I've lived in a gayborhood for the last decade so being invisible to the opposite sex is something I've grown quite accustomed to. Perhaps too much since I don't even glance into a mirror before going anywhere in my hood. 

I won't lie; there are times when this cloak of invisibility has its advantages. Like when you're trying to smuggle illegal items...like a granola bar 😉, into a music fest. No problem! Security people assume we "invisible" women are incapable of such crimes!

But more often than not, it's just a big bowl of bummer. I'll admit it; back in the day, I used to be a "head turner." I don't mean to imply I'm beautiful; I'm not, but I'm cute and approachable enough that men would look at me. Don't get me wrong; I'm probably still a hottie to some demographics; I would slay in a senior living community, but I digress...

Back to the story...

One day I matched with an insanely attractive man on one of the dating apps (photo available, upon request). He fit the classic scammer profile: very handsome, good photos, exotic travel, check, check, check. He was 6'4", which is NOT my thing, but height appears to be most women's kryptonite, so more likely to be a fake account. He was possibly also a little outside my normal dating age range, but it didn't matter. There is no chance this is a real man. 

Anyway, we started messaging on the app back and forth. I'm being patient, polite and on alert for the typical first questions from scammers. No huge red flags but I was certainly ready for them when they started flying.

We messaged a few times and then a few months later, he sent a message that he was going to be in Chicago. Ok, so the one thing that a true scammer will NEVER do is ask to meet in real life. 

Ok, so now I was confused. If he's not a scammer, what is going on? Ah, I got it! He's a crypto bro! That's it! He had mentioned being a crypto investor in a previous message. Cryptocurrency is all the rage and Shitler is all in so that's driving values up. He's going to try and sell me Bitcoin. 

I went back and forth on whether I should go, but ultimately decided that the worst thing that could happen is I spend an evening pretending to listen to a handsome man talk about BitCoin. Or he looks nothing like his pictures and is in reality a 60-year-old unemployed plumber living in his mom's basement. Or he's a serial killer. 

Either way, I felt like it could also be a hilarious blog so I went (you're welcome, readers!). We made plans to meet late afternoon at a small bar. 

Before leaving, I showed my daughter his picture and said, "I'm meeting this guy and he's either going to catfish me, try to sell me BitCoin or kill me. If I don't come back, this is him. Or not." 

I arrive at the bar and there he was! I am stunned to see he is as cute in person as he was in his profile pictures. He is all of 6'4" and he's real. 

We ordered drinks and talked about various things, no huge red flags flying. After a half hour, I could no longer take the suspense. I shot-gunned a beer to calm my nerves and blurted out, "What are we doing here? Seriously? Are you going to try and pitch me Bitcoin?" 

His expression indicated he was bewildered by the inquisition. He finally said, "Well, I actually prefer older women and I think you are really attractive and possibly selling yourself a bit short." 

Assuming that was not a short joke, I was shocked. I honestly never actually considered that option. We had a great time, went to a couple of bars, ate dinner, another bar, drank way too much, and made out in dark street corners and bars. I'm not going to lie. It was exhilarating. I felt sexy and desirable.


Then I got tired. 

We had met up at 5p.m., and now, 5+ hours later, I was losing steam as the multiple drinks were having a sedative effect. I took a glance at my watch and it was 10:45. 

So, while he was in the bathroom, I called my Uber. He looked puzzled when I announced I was leaving. I'm pretty sure he didn't see that coming. People his age stay up late, and guys who look like that don't get bailed on by women before 11 p.m., especially after vibing for the last few hours. 

Cinderella had to be home by midnight or her carriage would turn into a pumpkin.

ChatGPT's version of a Perimenopausal Cinderella

Peri-Menopausal Cinderella's self-imposed curfew is 11PM, as sleep is now her love language. Her carriage is an Uber, and her prince Charming was two decades younger...and possibly a Republican (though I didn't inquire enough to kill the buzz). And, sadly, getting in bed alone with her dogs sounded pretty enticing. 

I got into the Uber and started laughing uncontrollably. I'm sure the driver thought I was insane. I arrived to find Laura waiting at the door, having been GPS tracking my ass all night. Apparently every change of venue caused her to think I was being abducted.

She made me agree to stay on the north side of 40 in the dating world, and as she was walking away, I said, "He's way too tall anyway," to which she flipped me the bird without turning around. 

End of story. Well, until last week, when I was in Houston for a week for work. My "friend" lives there and we went out one night and had a great time...and I almost made it to midnight! 😉 

Wow, that got long but thanks for reading!

Happy Almost Spring, everyone.

Until next time,

Barb

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Sunday, July 7, 2024

Pumping the Breaks on Serial Dating: Why Less is More

Greetings, everyone. It's been a minute so thought I would sit down and write a blog. When the weather is nice and I can be outside, writing a blog is never a priority, however, today it is super soupy out so...

It's been a long time since I provided any type of update on my love life, although spoiler alert: not a whole lot going on, but intentionally. I'm currently matched with dozens of guys on the various apps but actually communicating with them seems bothersome and too much work. After serial dating for the past 8 years and probably 500+ dates, I can say I seem to have lost a bit of my enthusiasm for it. I typically date anywhere from 3-5 guys at a time and it's never been an issue. Fun for the most part. But lately, meh.

To be honest, as my interest in sex has waned since boarding the perimenopausal bus, so has my tolerance for the constant tomfoolery and antics of many of these men. It takes a huge amount of effort and patience to date via the various apps. Constantly weeding through the 60yo+ wannabe playboys who just want "intimacy without commitment" and list "sex positivity" as one of the attributes they would like to highlight. Thanks, bro, you and every other Tom, Dick and Harry on my dating feed. Thanks, Bumble. 


This is a whole new ballgame for me as I've been somewhat boy crazy my entire life. It's what primarily got me through high school. I've had boyfriends my entire life. In the 3rd grade, I had two boyfriends. I guess at some point, I demanded jewelry and the next day, they both showed up with rings. One was his sister's mood ring and the other swiped from his mom, both of which I had to return. And, so it began. 

I like men; I can't lie about that, but while I once looked forward to playing the whole online dating game, and the daily rituals of it, now I launch the various apps with equal doses of dread and pessimism. Anyone women around my age still dating understands what I am talking about. Wait, no. I'll go one step farther and say any woman of any age who is dating online understands this feeling; trying to balance optimism with dread. 

I open my dating apps now with a partial snarl and stink eye as a peruse my sad feed of options. Chock-full of men in their 50s seeking "short-term fun" and even funnier, the ones over 50-year-olds who are "undecided" on having kids. Dude, surely that ship has sailed! I call them the "Peter Pans." Or even worse, men who are 60+ with small kids. Wow, you clearly took a wrong turn in life! Thanks, but no thanks. I'll await grandkids.

The Peter Pans and the scammers are in full force these days on the dating apps. I read somewhere that nearly 30% of dating profiles are indeed fake. I will admit, I have wanted to ensnare one of these twatwaffles, as I mentioned in this blog. However, my tolerance and patience are so low at this point, I often scare them off quickly with my toxic attitude and snarky comments.  

Below is one example. Meet Theodoric. Cute, right? Sadly, that's one clue. Another clue? Well, they are always looking for real long-term relationships and describe themselves as "loyal" and "honest" when they are everything but that. And, often they list their education as "in grad school," which I loath almost as much as the "school of hard knocks." Most importantly, all their images are professionally taken and in exotic locations and never with anyone else. 


Here's another one. Meet Baldwin. Always odd names. My guess is the scammers are foreign and have no idea what normal names are in the U.S. so they just pick random names.


As you can see my tolerance is about as low as it can get. I have tried to stay patient and await whatever scam is to play out, but then I get so angry thinking about all the dumbasses who actually fall for this shit, and it makes me what to go full vigilante on them. Sadly, I've never had the patience to get too far. I've tried luring them in once they mention their interest in Bitcoin, but alas my evil ulterior motive typically unveils itself pretty quickly. 

The girls...where the fun always is

To be honest, I am preferring the company of my female friends these days. No, I'm not changing teams despite almost a decade of living in a gayborhood. I'm afraid I'm hard-wired for men, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy spending time with my girlfriends. 

It's been quite easy finding men to date here in Chicago, but finding girlfriends is much harder and something I am committed to being better at this year. Putting effort into finding new girlfriends is something worth working towards because those are the relationships that stand the test of time.


I have been blessed with a deep pool of girlfriends cultivated over decades and they live all over the U.S. These are the relationships I want to foster moving forward. Traveling with my girlfriends is what I want more of looking to the future. 

Sure, I miss vacation sex, but overall traveling with my girlfriends is always a blast. Easy, fun and so many laughs. Not to mention, I don't have to tend to my "lady garden" when I embark on girl trips. You might remember this blog in which I discuss how I despise dealing with hair down there. 

When I travel with my girlfriends, it's unspoken that everyone pitches in so it enables me to truly enjoy my vacation. They clean, pack lunches, cook, buy groceries, and organize - without having to even ask! After years of traveling with my family or my kids and their friends, it's so nice to not have to be the one in charge when on vacation. Girls take care of each other, without asking. 

I will add that I also love traveling with my daughter as well and look forward to exploring more of the world with her. She is a great traveler, and despite inheriting my directional deficit disorder (DDD), she's a wiz at reading google maps on her phone while walking so a keeper, for sure.



Making New Friends

I've become friends with an older German man, Arthur, who lives on the street behind me. He's in his late 80s and retired from a 30+year long career as a teacher at one of the large public high schools in Chicago. He nursed his first wife through cancer, only to remarry a much younger fellow teacher who sadly is now losing her former self due to dementia. 

Art loves when the dogs and I visit him and his adorable dog Bella, which we do daily. He sits outside around the time we do our daily walks and always has treats for the dogs. Bowie and Freddie are both huge fans, for obvious reasons, so they basically drag me to his house at the beginning of every walk. 


I love hearing his stories as he enjoys mine. My favorite stories involve how he would handle bad kids back in the day. When boys would act out, he would simply challenge them to a fight in the school gym. While walking to the gym, he would heavily lean into his German accent while casually warning them that as a former military officer, he is trained to kill. I have to giggle at the thought of those snotty kids, fully believing this teacher was about to drop them like a bag of cement in front of their fellow students. Typically, they would change their minds by the time they made it to the gym. Probably smart.

Art tells me every day when I leave how much he appreciates our visit, and I know he means it. I enjoy them as well. It has to be quite lonely living with someone with dementia. Sometimes when I don't see him out, I worry about him. Has he died? Nope, he's fine. 

When time is not on your side

I have another friend battling ALS, which is about the worst disease anyone could have the misfortune of getting. Even more tragic is she is young, not yet 40 with an absolutely adorable 4-year-old daughter, Liv. 

Laura and I had the great fortune to spend a wonderful week on a cruise to Alaska with Vesna, her husband and Liv, recently. This is another relationship I want to focus on as my time with her is now limited. I love her and her family and feel grateful for whatever time I get to spend with her. 

I will never use this blog to make money, despite many telling me I should. This blog is not meant to be that. It's meant to be my public diary. That said, there is a GoFund me for Vesna to help pay for all the equipment and supplies they will need moving forward.  

If you can help, I assure you it is for the most worthy cause: a beautiful young family going through a nightmare so every little bit helps. Thanks in advance.

The bottom line is I am going to make an effort in all my relationships but with an eye to focus on the ones I know will better my life and I theirs. I haven't given up on finding the right guy but I have 7 years until retirement, so I got time.

And, girlfriends of mine: I have all sorts of fun girl trip ideas. I just need some travel partners in crime so let's start planning! 

Well, this is getting long so I better close. I hope this finds you all well and enjoying this beautiful season.

Until next time,


Barb


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Thursday, November 2, 2023

Kicking Off the Bucket List and I Still Got It!

So we all have a bucket list, and I recently checked one off my list: seeing the Cinque Terre region of Italy. It's been on my list for the past 20 years after seeing pictures from the area in a Rick Steeves book. My goal was to see if before I was 50, but then life got in my way, as it often does. I spent my 40th birthday celebrating in Italy and intended to spend my 50th there doing the same. 


Who knew that next decade would bring some many changes to my life? Certainly not me, but instead of sipping wine in Italy and toasting to my half-century status, I found myself newly single, empty-nested, embarking on a new career, and packing up my possessions for a move to Chicago. Whatever extra money I might have had to spend on a vacation was put into a down payment on my new condo, which I will own in 30 short years. 

Let me start by saying that I had no idea that the origin of "bucket lists" was the concept that they include all the things you should do before you "kick the bucket." Obviously my stupidity coming into play here, but I never have thought of bucket list items as something to do before I die. This whole concept, however, makes me want to hurry up and assemble a more complete list. If anyone has ideas, please share! Time is marching forward and retirement is only seven years away, not that I'm counting.

Our initial plan was to take this trip in May 2020. I guess you all know what happened that year. The following year we couldn't go for various reasons; the same thing happened last year. This year, however, it finally happened and my daughter Laura and I spent 10 amazing days exploring Italy.  Actually 11 days if you count the 6-city, 4-airline, 48-hour odyssey trying to get home from Italy, thanks to a nationwide travel strike and shit weather the day we were scheduled to leave. 

It was an incredible and memorable trip. Cinque Terre was absolutely stunning and lived up to my two decades of expectations, and the area is certainly worthy of anyone's bucket list. I love active vacations and that area was perfect for that as you can hike from one village to another.  One day alone, we logged 99 flights of stairs! Exhausting but certainly worth the effort for the views from one village to another. 

We started in Milan, spent four days in Cinque Terre in two different villages and finished out trip in Florence, my favorite Italian city. We changed Airbnbs every two nights so it we were always packing and on the move, but we did well and packed light.

Overall we got along quite well, as we usually do. I also learned a lot about myself. Apparently sometimes I breathe very loudly, drag my feet when walking, burb entirely too much and snore. Also, I need to start dying my gray hairs, because it's no longer "working for me." All revelations my millenial daughter shared with me during our travels. I made a mental note to look into hair dying options and recommended ear plugs and the white noise app on her phone. 

I suffer terribly from Direction Deficit Disorder (DDD) so going anywhere can, often inadvertantly, become an adventure. Sadly my daughter seems to have inherited that gene so it turns out she is also directionally challenged but is quite the master at Google maps, so thanks to GPS technology and the kindness of many strangers, we stayed the course...at least most of the time. 

Wine country awaits

We spent one day doing a wine tasting tour out in the Chianti region of Tuscany, which is also a very pretty part of Italy. We visited a few vineyards, learning about the difference between Chianti and Chianti Classico. As a huge red wine lover, I enjoyed tasting and hearing about how the grapes are cultivated and how the different soil makes such a huge difference. 

At the second vineyard, we were in a courtyard listening to the sommelier explain more about their wines. After he was done, Laura asked why he was staring at me the whole time. I had actually noticed that among the 20 or so participants, that he did seem to be focusing on me. I assumed it was because I was being attentive and genuinely interested in the topic: wine.



Next we went into the actual wine cellar and he continued his talk about how the wines are stored, etc. After taking some ribbing from a few of the others on the tour, I did take note this time that he had his eyes quite literally locked into mine. It was so obvious, in fact, that I had to look away a few times to stifle a giggle.

Well after that, the teasing escalated. It was becoming quite obvious that the sommelier, Gianni, might be a tad smitten with me. At one point, one of the guys on our tour missed out on one of the samples, a Super Tuscan that was quite good. He desperately tried to get the attention of Gianni to get his sample, but was being largely ignored. A few of them recommended that I ask on his behalf. I swear I barely whispered his  name and he immediately came over. 

After the tour, Laura told him I was single and encouraged me to give him my cell number, which after 8 glasses of wine seemed like a splendid idea.  That night he started calling, trying to find me out in Florence, leaving multiple voicemails (that will never be deleted). They all started the same: "Hey Baby," a phrase that has been on repeat by my daughter ever since." For days, I received calls and messages and eventually we connected on Whatsap. 

I am not going to lie; it's flattering. I encounter this phenomenon on the dating apps all the time. I blame Stifler's mom (American Pie reference). Most men on dating apps lie about their age, but it's typically to make them appear younger. Conversely, however, many younger guys lie and say they are 10 or more years older. Bottom line: younger guys dig me. I'm sure many of you remember I have a little experience in this area as I explained in this blog, Don't Call me a Cougar. 

Back to Gianni. Rather tragically I finally had to ask the question of how old he actually was. Unfortunately, Gianni, turns out to be significantly younger than he looks. I'll blame early onset male pattern balding for this, but turns out my young suitor is the same age as my kids, so it went from flattering to yucky pretty quickly. 

Despite this rather tragic reality, Gianni remained adamant and I must say this response definitely made me laugh. 


So unfortunatey, this is where our story ends here. But the bottom line, and one might say silver lining to this particular story: I still got it!!!  I'm not going to lie, turning 58 and being hit on by a man 30 years younger, isn't the worst thing to happen either. Did I mention how wonderful the wine was?

Ok, well I better close. Weather is predictably getting colder so the good news is this means more blogs from Barb! Talk about a silver lining, am I right?

I hope this all finds you well and ready to gear up for the final sprint to the end of the year. 

Until next time, my friends.

Barb



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Sunday, April 2, 2023

Raising Teenagers: The World's Most Thankless Job

Ok, yes. I am aware that I no longer am raising teens, but I still remember those years quite vividly and have very helpful advice for those of you who are in the midst of raising those snotty, know-it-alls. I have many friends as well as family members who are still in the process.

I like to randomly throw out helpful advice like: "it's going to get worse before it gets better" when I see my brother-in-law dealing with my beautiful, but feisty 15-year-old neice. 

I've heard the effort of raising teens is akin to "nailing jello to a tree" and can't disagree with that analogy. Pretty sure the reason they make babies and toddlers so cute is so you won't kill them as teenagers. 

A friend of mine recently commended me on having kids who appear to have good heads on their shoulders, in other words, who have their proverbial shit together. Indeed, for the most part, my kids are flourishing. 

Laura is killing it in the corporate world and Ben is relatively close to finishing his PhD. Bottom line is they are successful, and more importantly happy adults, and as a parent, that is really the best you can ask for. 

That, and neither of them are currenty on my payroll or living in my basement...

Looking back

I will have to say that this chapter of parenting was not easy. Going through a divorce during this time did not make it any easier. By the time my kids were in what I refer to as the "danger zone," I was parenting solo.

The difference being, post-divorce, I had no bad cop to back me up or to scare off dusty boys from my very pretty daughter. When her dad had been around, the boys would at least sit up and remove their hands from my daughter's body. After he was gone, they would barely even make notice of me loudly moving about the house while glaring them. 

I suddenly had to be both the good and bad cop, which isn't easy. And being the bad cop was in direct contradiction to my lifelong self-identity as the "cool" mom. I mean I really was the cool mom, something they now have finally accepted as adults. But you can't be the cool mom and the bad cop. It was new territory. 

Oh, and I was also trying to have an actual social life and date, which only added to the insanity of this period. 


We were really close though; naming ourselves the "Three Amigos" after the divorce, a title we continue to use to this day. Despite having a good, close relationship with both of them, I still lived in constant terror during these years that they would get in trouble.

Ride into the Danger Zone

What's the danger zone? The years when as parents you worry about the following: car accidents, teenage pregnancy, bullying, drug and/or alcohol misuse or addiction, failing in school, pursuit of life of crime, etc. You know, all the normal shit that people that look like adults but also don't have all the equpiment in full working order do. I mean that is fact. 

Just doing one of the possible menu options from the Danger Zone list and they got in trouble, it was going to be on me; it would be my fault as the single mom and one of the only liberals in a subdivision of conservative golfers. Nope, was not going to happen on my watch!

As teenagers, it's almost expected that they will do stupid things. Their teenaged brains are not even fully formed! Wait, that's actually not true. They have all the same equipement, in this case in the frontal lobe, but it's not fully connected yet so they don't yet connect action with consequences. Now, will this reality help you navigate the absolute idiocy of the teenage years? Absolutely not. 



Explains a lot of my own behavior as a teen actually. I was a handful so I naively thought this would give me a leg up during this chapter in parenting. I've written before about how I'm a rebel at heart, regardless of age. No way, those idiots were going to get away with anything on my watch! 

One of my rules was no one in the basement, unless you're playing ping pong. Reason was obvious; nothing good happens in a basement. Alcohol is consumed, pot smoked and virginitites lost. That's what happens in basements in the danger zone. 

It worked for a while. One day Laura was down there with one of our least favorites and Ben yelled up to me that he was no longer hearing the ping or the pong of the balls in the basement. Duly noted, I texted Laura a first warning from the 3rd floor, not wanting to embarass her. 

Unfortunately shortly thereafter, when once again no ping, nor pong was audible, Ben grabbed his handy airhorn and blasted a friendly warning from the top of the basement stairs to his sister and her little friend. You can imagine how that was received. 

Good times. 



I took it as my primary job to stalk my kids. Yes, you heard me. Digitally stalk, in most cases. I'm sure some of you are balking at this, spouting something about privacy. Yeah, no. If you're saying that AND have teenagers, I will pray for you. 

Why? Because teenagers lie. You can trust a teenager about as far as you can kick said teenager. Don't try it..but there will be moments you will want to. Bottom line: They all lie. And, if you are saying to yourself that your teen doesn't lie to you, then you're either wrong or your kid is weird. Sorry, but it's true. 

I hear parents say, "my teenager tells me everything." Well, if that is true, they again are either a weird kid (it does happen) or that kid is withholding some truths from you (or worse yet, is going to go buck wild the minute they get to college). It's part of the process. As such, I left nothing to chance and added an app to my kids' cell phones that enabled me to track them. 

When I first started using the app, I had other parents tell me that the kids would just leave their phone behind. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! Clearly these idiots didn't have teens at home. 

They would be more likely to leave an organ, perhaps a kidney, behind as nothing is more important than that phone. It is their connection to their peers, which in case you have not noticed is now the voice they listen to. Once this happens, around 13-14, they are no longer listening to you and you better hope everything you said prior was taken to heart. 

At this same time, teenagers also magically become smarter than their parents. Or so they believe. There are literally years when half the things you say to your kids will be met with the standard eye roll. I mean clearly now that they have teen-fueled, super intelligence, despite the brain disconnect, their parents' stupidity is quite a burden to them.

One year, my son got caught driving through the neighborhood, while on his phone: a no-no. Once caught, his cell phone was taken away...and it was during Spring Break. Ouch. Yep, it sucked...for everyone because teens don't suffer silently. Below is what I found on my quite large, 28" Mac screen shortly after that ruling came down. He was not happy apparently.


It's hard to read, a screenshot of a screen but all Google searches like "what's the defintion of child abuse" and "what to do if your mom is crazy" all meant to communicate his ire. Mission accomplished. I had to laugh though. Both of my kids have inherited my and my ex's senses of humor: both a curse and blessing as illutrated above.

Obviously there were a few years when I did not win any popularity contests at home. Catching them in places they weren't supposed to be and doing things they weren't supposed to do was the norm. You would think that knowing full well their "awful" mom was stalking them, they would largely be where they said they were going to be but again, they are idiots. Note: see above about disconnected teenaged brain ☝.

I won't list all the things I busted my kids for as teens but suffice to say they were no angels, though neither have felony convictions either. 😀 

Note: as adults, they just love to regale me with stories of all the shit they did get away with. I find it a tad less amusing than they do at this point.

Below is their T-P kit packed and ready to go that I found when I was moving out of the house. Clearly derelicts in training...


Handing out punishments was not fun. Despite what kids think, we don't like it. That said, I think my dad did actually enjoy saying no during my hellish teen years and I'm pretty sure I still hold the record for the longest grounding on record in the state of Connecticut (3 months-don't ask, though duly noted in this blog).  

It's always easier to say yes. My Mom's go-to move when she just could not say yes to a query was to send it up to the Supreme Court (Dad) who would strike it down instantaneously. Wasn't really even worth the appeal process to be honest. Dad always said no. He didn't even pretend to be my friend, but as an adult, I get it. He was playing the role of Bad Cop and just refused to break character. I do understand.

I actually did want to be friends with my kids, and I'm happy to say that today I do think of them as friends in addition to being my kids. I love nothing more than traveling and exploring the world with my now adult children. 

But my job during those years wasn't to be their friend, but their guiding force, like it or not. And, I assure you they did NOT always like it.

A thankless job indeed but an incredibly important one so hang in there!

Happy Spring, everyone.



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Saturday, August 21, 2021

Bidding Adieu to a Wonderful Summer

Many of you have been questioning why there have not been any recent blogs. My answer to this is that I've simply been having too much fun on the weekends to write. Writing is something I do in my day job so taking away any "play time" on the weekends to write a blog just never seems like a good idea.

The summer has been full of tennis, music festivals, bike rides and just a whole lot of fun. Went to AND survived Lollapalooza with my daughter as well as the Hella Mega Tour with my son a few weeks later. I was so happy to be hearing live music again, definitely my happy place. All and all an amazing summer and sad to see it soon coming to a close.

Today, however, it's extremely soupy and hot out, giving me two options: cleaning my condo or writing a blog. Condo cleaning can wait! 

Ben and I seeing Weezer, Fallout Boy and Green Day at Wrigley. Note: I'm wearing the shirt I bought him after taking him to his first Green Day show at 13.

Love Life Update

Not much in the way of an update. Jon and I are still enjoying each other's company, and next month we celebrate the one-year anniversary of our first date, which took place at the Hopleaf, one of my favorite local bars. To this day, Jon has my number saved in his phone as "Barb Hopleaf." 

As you all know we met and started dating during the pandemic so I must say I did worry about what would happen when Jon--who is quite the snappy dresser--realized that my pandemic wardrobe and my schlubby chic normal wardrobe are sadly one and the same.  He seems to have dealt with that reality.

The year has flown by and we have had a lot of fun together. Lots of adventures and certainly more on tap. He is a very active guy so we are always doing something, although he definitely also enjoys activities that are not at the top of my list of fun things to do. 

For one, he's a camper and while I love campfires, s'mores, hiking and being outside, the whole sleeping outside thing isn't my bag. I can hike until my legs are jelly, but at the end of the day I want clean sheets, a hot shower, and a meal I don't have to forage for. Period. Sadly, I know he hasn't given up trying to convince me to give it a try. "We don't sleep on the ground; we have cots." Oh boy! 

While I know his intention is to alleviate my concerns, the last time I was on a cot was in the 6th grade when I was feigning a stomachache to get out of the long run in gym class. I don't remember enjoying it, although it did beat running. 

Now, can I imagine a scenario in which I would willingly sleep on a cot...in a tent? Well, sure. But most of those scenarios involve the Red Cross and some type of natural disaster, like a tornado or hurricane (highly unlikely), or maybe a plane crash. 

One of his trips over the winter, he and a group of equally nutty, but physically fit friends walked up a mountain in skis with skins on and all their gear for 8 miles!! I'm not even a fan of carrying my own suitcase. The end goal is a hut. A hut. Not a bougie hotel suite, but a hut. Backcountry skiing is the real reward.


For real, I would have made it maybe 2-3 miles before someone put me out of my misery. Our relationship could not have weathered the amount of bitching and complaining that would have been emanating from me. 

Call me crazy, but I prefer skiing in areas where ski patrol can come rescue me, if needed, and where magical chairs take you to the top of the mountain. Not areas where you have to wear special devices to survive avalanches and where you have to walk uphill to get to the top. 

They don't build them like they used to...

I might be in the market for a new washer/dryer. I truly hope you were all sitting for that shocking news. To be honest, I don't want to buy a new set as I am well aware that the appliances they make today don't hold a candle to the quality of the ones of yesteryear. 

When my ex and I got married, we financed a washer/dryer set from Sears. When I moved out of the family house nearly 25 years later, both were still in perfect working condition. I gave them to a friend's son and his wife so they might still be washing and drying like champs. Update: my friend Mary reports they are still both functioning perfectly 32 years later. 

When I moved into my condo, there was a rather old washing machine and dryer already there so I didn't rush to replace them. At one point the dryer started making an odd, clunking sound. Turns out of of its fins (probably not the technical term) on the inside had become detached and was flinging around. The screw to keep in place had fallen into the drum of the dryer so I just tore it off. Works like a charm again. Not a McGyver-esque fix, but it worked. 

It's not that I can't afford a new pair, but why spend thousands to replace them with some space-age, computerized contraption that won't last a quarter of the time these other super-senior appliances do? I don't want a motherboard on my washing machine. I really don't need them to be "smart." Just like dogs, you don't want the smartest one. They are too much work. Same theory applies with appliances. 

Washing and drying clothes is a very simple task. That's why the older models didn't break much; there wasn't much to break. Simple mechanics; no electronics, sensors, or microprocessors. I'm not asking it to  solve differential equations; I just want it to clean and dry my damn clothes. Have clothes become more complex? I don't want to me able to communicate with my washing machine. 

Older ones are also much easier to operate. My current dryer offers me two options: Normal and Delicate modes. So my options are: hot or surface-of-the-sun hot. Easy peasy. Don't put anything in there that will shrink. Same with my washer. A few options but 90% of the time, I go with normal (warm wash/cool rinse). The newer ones offer a million different features, a myriad of different configurations to choose from. My clothes don't require any advanced settings. 

I had a lot of friends who ran out and bought those front-loaders and then had to deal with mildew and other issues; there were class action lawsuits from furious owners. My mom bought a new fancy top loader a few years ago, which to this day I can't figure out how to operate, and it's so deep that she quite literally fell into it one night and couldn't get out!!! Fortunately she eventually escaped it; thankfully she's a nimble and athletic old lady. 

When she finally liberated herself, she came up excitedly to tell my dad what has just happened. His response was, "well, thank God you got yourself out of there, because I have no idea where the camera is and I would have had to find that first before I came down to help." Image below is her demonstrating what happened. Notice the stool. 


Ok, well this is getting long so ciao for now, but sadly the weather will soon turn and as a result, I'm sure there will be more blogs to come.

Hope all of you are well and let's enjoy what's left of summer. 

Warmest and sweatiest regards,

Barb


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