Tag Archives: women

who are we now?

Posted on by

20140625-112042-40842486.jpg

Do you remember when you were little or even a teenager, you thought fifty was old? But I also remember a lot of fifty and almost fifty year olds looking much older then versus now. Or maybe it is a case of everything is relative.

For me being fifty is sort of at this point full circle meets “Wow, where did all the years go?” But for the most part I don’t feel fifty, or whatever it is our pre-conceived notion of being and feeling fifty is supposed to be. Fifty can be vastly different even depending on what television show you watch and what magazine you look at.

Face it, fifty has gotten younger as we have gotten older. The fifty of the 1950s for example is very different than today. But then the roles of women have evolved too, so maybe that has something to do with it. Or maybe the fear of aging is just that much more pronounced now?

I found the image above and it cracks me up because I remember women’s household magazines in the 1970s showing women how to make duvet covers, curtains, and clothes out of sheet sets. I was born in the mid 1960s and when I first remember women that were “old” to me as a kid, i.e. middle-aged would have been the early 1970s. That was when I noticed how much more hip city women at the time seemed from suburban women and then there was a remarkable difference.

Today, women to an extent are more assimilated in some regards, but not all. But back then (for example) you might see hip city women in boho chic for summer and suburban women all Lily Pullitzer and Vera. The city gals were more free flowing and the suburban women more seriously buttoned up.

What defined fifty in my mother’s time of fifty was so different than what we see today. But also what I am noticing today to an extent fascinates me. And so many take themselves so seriously. They still don’t realize it is ok to color outside of the lines.

I have no issue with women who “take care of themselves”. But sometimes I think my friends and I are in the majority of not having “work done.”

To each their own, but after undergoing a couple non-elective and fairly major surgeries, I can’t imagine elective surgeries for new boobs, face, and so on. I also don’t get filling your face full of chemical fillers and well, botulism (well that is what Botox is).

I see women whose faces are shiny and other worldly luminous from chemical peels. It just doesn’t look normal to me, and some look like they could glow in the dark. I always wonder what they would look like if they just aged normally?

There are some women who I thought were among the most naturally beautiful when they were younger who are to an extent unrecognizable at times because of all the surgical augmentation and chemical additives to stay young. It baffles me. But I opted to stop coloring my hair and although it will take years for me to grey completely, I know I baffle a lot of women my age for choosing to do this.

And that is the key: how do we define aging today? Is it we are only as old as we feel, or we are controlled and conditioned by what we see around us on television, in magazines and on the Internet?

I see women basically my age trying to dress like their teenage and early twenties daughters. It doesn’t matter to me if they have the bodies or not, sometimes it makes me wince. They look silly at times, and cute is what they are going for. But then I think who am I to judge if it makes them happy? But it’s the whole be who you are thing, and how do they know if they have never seemed to try?

But I guess I don’t get at the end of the day wanting to look eighteen again. I mean eighteen was fun, but in a sense I am having more fun now than then. And why is that? Because at fifty I know who I am for the most part and at eighteen a teenage girl is still trying to figure it all out no matter how self confident they appear to be. It seems that at fifty I give myself more permission than I have in years to be myself.

I haven’t figured it all out and am definitely a work in progress. And I am trying to figure out what being fifty is exactly. So far it’s just another year, and not so bad!

Thanks for stopping by.

april fools’

Posted on by

20140401-135521.jpg

April Fools’ on me is it is so nice outside and I am still recovering from recent surgery. So I have been restoring a quilt and reading. I hate to say I am tired, but wow I am tired.

Reading is a delightful luxury. Novels, back issues of The New Yorker (which I apparently first picked up as a small child for the cartoons according to my parents), and a newspaper column I have read some of online from Maine I find fascinating because I think parts of it would make great skits for Saturday Night Live….or a series of New Yorker cartoons.

I have a bunch of friends who are a combination of native New Englanders and transplants. A few are in Maine. So the “Mainers” talk about a columnist in The Portland Daily Sun named Natalie Ladd. Not because her writing is so fabulous but because ( and I marvel at this) that she has apparently turned being a master kvetcher into a column. It’s like if Erma Bombeck was a whiner, and was kind of sort of humor-free.

Part of me marvels at that because in my Walter Mitty dreams a newspaper or magazine offers me a column some day because they love my writing style. It’s not that far-fetched because when I first began my transition out to Chester County, for a while I was writing online articles for The Philadelphia Inquirer’s now defunct online Neighbors blog. It was so fun and I loved it. I would pick my topics and pitch them. And of course my other dream is to have a one woman photography show in some super cool Chester County gallery.

So I think “maybe some day” and keep honing my crafts.

But I marvel at this Natalie Ladd. She has made herself a career of sorts via her column which seems to basically journal her midlife crisis meets empty nester. There she is in her “headshot” for the paper a woman of a certain age and definitely older than I. She has the worst glasses seen since Sally Jesse Rafael left television. And she is clutching a baby bottle in one hand and a mortar board in the other. You are almost embarrassed for her until you read a few of her columns and then it hits you: she’s the woman you avoid in the grocery store.

Because blogging is a personal writing journey, I hope I never morph into the woman who can’t deal with the empty nest (or anything else) like I see in these columns.

I could see being a columnist and writing a few columns about being an empty nester, but not making it as a variation on the theme of your personal aging and your main kvetch.

I asked some friends who are almost and total “empty nesters” what it is like. My one friend loves it until the dirty laundry mountain comes home to visit …..and she has quality time with piles of dirty clothes and not the kids. Another friend said it was hard at first but then you have to view it as an accomplishment because you have raised these amazing human beings who are your children to be fine individuals in their own right and this is the natural progression.

I never asked my mother how she felt. My parents just seemed to go about their lives and my sister and I developed our adult lives. I wonder how I will be when my stepson hits the road for college. I think that I know I will miss him because he is a very cool kid and I love him, but the reality is I want him to spread his wings and explore the world. It will be his time.

So this to me, after reading this woman’s columns (not all, because I just don’t have the stamina or interest) this stems from not necessarily just the proverbial empty nest, but the fact that she is not one with aging.

Maybe I look at life overly simplistically in some regards now. I look in the mirror and yes, basically a 50 year old woman stares back at me and some days I am literally thinking “when did 50 happen?”

But what am I supposed to do here? Act like a teenager, dress like a teenager, and avoid aging and be generally embarrassing ? But then I step back and well ….there will always be someone older than me, younger than me, poorer than me, richer than me, bigger house, smaller house, and so on. That is like the balance of life. So why not just be more accepting and move on?

Another friend and I were talking this morning about how we have stayed together as friends and love our lives, our homes, our families. Nothing is perfect, it doesn’t have to be. We are grateful for what we have and for each other. We were once part of a larger circle, and the circle has shrunk as other women we know have changed and spread out into different circles that fit their lives.

We have seen some morph into cliques of mean girls in rather strange places like church groups. Who knew Sunday school meant mean mommy time? I find that sad. People using the church lady cloak to just be bitchy is so 1960s and the era of drunken cocktail parties.

We also marvel at the ones who worked really hard to get their goals (for lack of a better description) and who are so malcontented that they still can’t be happy. Ever. We all have those moments, but what happened that these people let it drive the bus? Life isn’t a Real Housewife franchise even if we like to watch that sometimes on television.

And then there are the friends who are just lost. There is a sadness when we discuss them, because we miss the people they used to be.

Life and relationships are work. And maintenance and selflessness. Life and relationships are fabulous and messy and wonderful. And we age. Like it or not as someone in my house likes to remind me, we aren’t 18 anymore.

Good, because I don’t need to be 18 again. It was fun, but that teenage girl is not the me of today. Parts of her still live within me I suppose, but I kind of like where I am. I am happy and I am loved….and I have a big garden all my own that I can create and a house that is perfect for my family.

Does that sound simplistic ? Maybe it does or maybe through life experience and my aging I have learned what is important. Part of my life experience has been breast cancer. That is why I also write a breast cancer blog. But the odd thing about having breast cancer is in a lot of ways it has freed me. Maybe why I don’t fear turning 50 and beyond is because I know I could have also NOT been that lucky to attain 50.

In closing today I share New Yorker cartoons. One from their March 17th edition and one from their March 24th edition. Although the grown up in me reads the New Yorker for the fabulous articles and solid writing, the child I once was still loves the cartoons.

Thanks for stopping by today.

20140401-135541.jpg

surviving in the land of women

Posted on by

downtonI am about to lead off into a post that might make people go “huh” in the first few paragraphs (or all the way through).  It is however, just something I have been pondering, so I decided to write it down.

My friends will tell you that I think some women on occasion are wasted space.  And I am not saying that to be mean, I just have great female friends and relatives and don’t have time for the games and the hormonal B.S. that exceeds P.M.S. in a lot of  “adult” women.

And face it, a lot of purportedly “adult” women are still pulling the same stunts they did in grade school and high school. I try not to be intolerant, and I want to be understanding always, but sometimes it is just not possible.

Such is the nature of relationships women have with other women. If we are honest with ourselves, that is. And if we are truly honest with ourselves as women, surviving in the land of women can be like navigating a maze or an obstacle course.  And in that vein, every woman goes through phases where other women make them want to beat their head against the wall.

I don’t expect everyone to like me, to understand me, to want to be my friend.  And I am quite o.k. with that.  I know who I am, so it’s all good. I do not pretend to be perfect; I am a human and I am flawed.  I am just me, have no desire to be anyone else.  Like everyone else I love, I laugh, I have experienced hardship and loss.

Those who have seemingly magical lives untouched by anything unpleasant are really, really lucky.  I will never pretend my life has been a continual paragon of perfection because all relationships take work and sometimes life circumstance takes us where we never expect.  Besides, acknowledging occasional bumps in the road isn’t a bad thing.  It is part of who we are, adds character. I guess I don’t understand when people are afraid to live life out loud and in color.

As women our differences and similarities shouldn’t freak people out so much.  But have you noticed how it often does?

Where I used to live, some of us (male and female) used to refer to this group of women as “the mean girls.”  And oh, were they ever.  They were like a gaggle of mean, pecking geese.  If you weren’t like them, didn’t share their politics or parenting style, you were literally a target.  They were rather parochial in their very limited bullying ways.  It was somewhat astounding and always amusing. Especially when they acted like  quasi well-bred alley cats and then lectured others on manners and decorum.

Of course one of the things I always found amusing was one of them who was always particularly critical and mean to others  had the worst body odor.  I often wondered if she ever knew the reason people backed away wasn’t always just because they did not want to deal with intimidation, but because she was rather odoriferous.

Even out here in my newer world I have found that it is not always easy to survive in the land of women.  One such creature contacted me unbidden the other day.  She said to me (and I quote)

“Stupid bitch.  It’s ok to have an opinion as long as it agrees with yours.  You’re ugly inside and out, blogging bitch.”

Amazingly enough this woman sent this to me with full disclosure of who she was.  Equally amazing is that this woman was never a friend or an acquaintance, had never met me, never had a conversation with me.  Nothing.  She just did not like my opinion is pretty much what it boiled down to.  Hopefully she feels better now.  Did I mention this woman is a grandmother I am told?  I am sorry I just can’t picture my grandmothers ever doing such a thing.

Other things about women that drive me occasionally crazy as an adult (and also did as a teen and in my early twenties) is the way some women can obsess over what others are saying and trying to divine what they are thinking, search for hidden meanings where none exist.  Some women can even create issues and drama where there are none to worry about. This happens a lot more today I think because of social media.

Have you ever had someone ask you if your Facebook or Twitter status is about them? Maybe some people roll that way, but I do not.  When someone did that to me recently, it actually creeped me out a little.  It also annoyed the bejesus out of me.  I am pretty darn direct and if something bothers me, I spit it out in person.

Does what happened bother me still?  No.  But I am writing about it because I think it is germane to what I am writing with regard to how women interact with each other. The person who did this will undoubtedly be upset to see this written down, but again, nothing personal please avoid drama- it just is a good example of the dumb stuff that happens.

Recently, out of the blue, someone I let go from my life easily fifteen or twenty years ago surfaced.    This is one of those people who always used to leave a trail of emotional wreckage and drama behind her.  She was one of those people you just let go of because among other things you get tired of hearing what she has done and living in the wake of unecessary drama.

As life always comes full circle, this woman is back again.  New husband, new life.  I am in truth, happy for her and wish her well.  But it doesn’t mean I want to pick back up.  I don’t.  The funny thing is she doesn’t get that  I feel neither hate nor animosity, but in truth, feel nothing.  Not being mean, but she is just not part of the equation of my life. Maybe it is file under once bitten, twice shy.  I don’t know.  All I know is I just can’t go there again.  And it should be o.k. to feel that way.

And that is at the crux of change sometimes: it just is, and it is not done for others, it is done for yourself.  After surviving breast cancer a lot of crap doesn’t matter to me any longer.  I have let stuff go and moved on.  I have also let go of people I did not feel were positive in my life.

It sounds a little zen, so maybe it is.   There are other things I want to do, other people I want to meet.  My core group of friends remains the same and I am blessed because a lot of them pretty much go back to the cradle of it all. But as for others?  Sorry, but I have to do what is best for me.  In some cases that means walking away and ignoring people, in other cases just letting people go.  Life is too short and often too hard to spend it around people who do not make you happy.

niaIn this odd land of surviving woman also comes something cool this week:  I will be reading  an advanced copy of actress/director/writer Nia Vardalos’ book Instant Mom.  I will then review it for this blog and possibly interview her.  She is one of my favorite actresses, so how cool is that?

I also have been published in a book that is a compilation of a book of essays written by breast cancer survivors.  A long while ago my friend (and amazing writer) Nicki Boscia Durlester told me she was writing another book.  Only this one would be different.  It would not just be her journey through breast cancer, it would be the stories of many.

Nicki asked me to be part of this, and I said yes.   And as the calendar creeps up on the 2nd anniversary of my diagnosis and the 2nd anniversary of my surgery, the book is out and published.

I am incredibly proud and rather emotional at being a part of this book.  There are a lot of survivor stories out there, and it is an honor to have been chosen to stand with all these amazing and incredible women.

Like every breast cancer diagnosed, no one woman’s story is exactly the same although you will find threads of commonality that bond us together.

It is called The Pink Moon Lovelies: Empowering Stories of Survival [Paperback] .  It is available on Amazon.com. And again, Nicki Boscia Durlester is the overall author, editor, and provides the inroduction.

Anyway, life is a journey.  And we all deserve to be happy.  But as a woman, sometimes I just find surviving in the land of women an uneasy sisterhood at best.  I am sorry if that upsets people, or others interpret this post as a weird betrayal because it is not.  Some of what I write is from my own life experience, and my writing mentors have always said “write what you know.” Well this is part of what I know.

Do I think women should be more supportive of each other? Yes, but we also have to be honest.  And part of that honesty means acknowledging to yourself and others that you are not going to get along with everyone, nor should you be expected to.  We are all different.

Thanks for stopping by.

not your average “beach read”

Posted on by

Women titillated by 50 Shades of Gray. From screencrush.com http://screencrush.com/50-shades-of-grey-movie/

Time to get slightly controversial.  An article recently in Forbes online, specifically Forbeswoman has prompted me to comment on something I had not commented on, because I simply found the topic distasteful.

It’s that Fifty Shades of Gray by EL James.  First I was merely appalled by a mindless news report on NBC 10 this past March by Dawn Timmoney.  The news report cut into this kitchen scene with purported “Main Line” women.  There they are talking about oops how naughty the book was and how naughty they were for reading it.  They looked half in the bag, and just…well…gauche. Yes, they indeed needed a spanking.  What I did not know then is that the book is supposedly  a big hit with middle-aged women. I must be a different kind of woman or more of a traditionalist that I thought.

So we now know these ladies are into soft porn, rape fantasies, and bondage.  And so do their kids, neighbors, rabbis, ministers, priests, lady at the checkout aisle in the grocery store, cleaning lady, etcetera. And apparently they need this book to feel sexy or get their proverbial rocks off? Low self esteem much?

Really, that is what you want the PTA and girl scout troop leader to know?  Or say your own mother?

Wow.

I am not a prude, but the whole premise of these books is profoundly disturbing to me.  It seems to me, that for all women have advanced throughout the years, that this sets them back.  And I am also not a women’s libber.

But to me, it seems that if this is what you have to turn to, there is something definitely off in your interpersonal relationships.  I get that some people are into role play, and quite frankly, what happens behind your bedroom doors doesn’t affect me.  But don’t assume that everyone wants to hear about it.

Once you get past the porn side of the book, what I find that disturbs me is the fact that there is this darker side to the book that objectifies women, and glamorizes what amounts to domination of women in what I feel is an unhealthy way, along with basically glamorizing rape and potentially violence and emotional abuse of women.  I also think it makes a mockery out of relationships.

Have I read the book cover to cover?  No, I did not want to.  The basic idea of it was disturbing, not titillating.  I read an excerpt or two online and flipped through it in a bookstore when I saw a couple of women furtively checking it out.  This is not something I would buy, nor would I borrow it from a friend.

I truly find the whole idea of subservient female anything distasteful. There are undertones to the concept of the book that are unacceptable and possibly dangerous.  And  hearing it portrayed as something to revive ailing relationships, just wow.  EL James as Dr. Ruth of today?  Yuck.

I love to read.  A good author can send you to foreign lands, and interesting locales and paint word pictures that put you there, in the moment of the book.  But this?  What kind of message does a book like this send?  Is this what you want your daughters to read and learn from?  Really?

I am sure someone said something like this when Jaqueline Susann’s Valley of the Dolls  was published in 1996, but  wow, that sure seems tame by comparison.

And this book has probably made the author a millionaire and has reportedly also boosted sales of things like plain white rope in hardware stores all over the country.  Even more amusing?  Hotels are offering Fifty Shades of Gray Tourista Packages.  And oh yes, the Daily Mail in the UK is predicting a rise in babies born a veritable baby boom, with direct attribution going towards…you got it…Fifty Shades of Gray.

Does Fifty Shades of Gray have Pinterest Boards yet?

Like this Forbes writer said, I am also not a book burner.  But what is wrong with a society that views this as fabulous?  I don’t get it.  Do you?  Am I wrong?  If you have an opinion, feel free to post a comment.  Remember I reserve the right to not publish comments as I see fit.

Here is the Forbes article:

ForbesWoman       6/23/2012 @ 12:23PM  |45,152 views   

Is ‘Fifty Shades Of Grey’ Dangerous?

Kathryn CaseyKathryn Casey, Contributor