What's been on my mind lately? Lemme tell ya!
I seriously have issue with 40-50 year old women who write books and go on the Oprah show talking about how wonderful it is to be that old, and that women should embrace their age and their beauty that comes with being that age. Why? Because without fail, all these women are so nip/tucked and Botoxed that their faces don’t even move when they talk. How can one make proclamations about loving one’s beauty and then epitomize the definition of plastic surgery? And I’m not just talking a brow lips or some lipo (I mean, who can’t use those, you know?) but these women have plastic faces and plastic boobs to go along with it.
The Big O had Bette Midler on, and I swear I didn’t even recognize her without the identification scroll at the bottom of the screen. Seriously, she looked cut up like Jennifer Gray after that whole nose job fiasco circa Dirty Dancing success. I think Bette may tried to smile once, but who knows? And then Oprah sits there, nodding to these empty words of self-love, while the real women in the audience feel like shit because they can’t possibly ever achieve this false “beauty” unless they score a dying millionaire Anna-Nicole style. It’s bull shit.
And not that I have a problem with plastic surgery ‘cause I don’t. I mean, I’ll admit it – I’ve stood in front of the mirror lifting, ahem, things, just to see how it would look with a littler alteration. But just don’t preach self and body acceptance when you clearly can’t do it yourself. And my personal favorite? All those actresses that SWEAR they have never gone under the knife, yet they look younger than most 21 years olds cruising the bars on the Vegas Strip. It must be all the sleep and healthy Hollywood living they’ve been doing. Yeah.
Is gangster rap dead yet? I mean, I’ve been waiting since 1993, and yet it keeps hanging on like that crotchety old aunt with a secret Last Will. How many different ways can one “sing” about apple bottom booties, shorties, 40s, Cristal, Hennessy, dollar bills, and the overall degrading of the female species? The most egregious demonstration of why this form of expression needs to take a hike? YouTube videos of 5-year-olds dancing to the Superman song. Really, check out that link if you don’t know what "Superman" means (hint: it has nothing to do with Christopher Reeves), and then imagine that this is what we have young children choreographing dance routines to. This needs to end, people.
And someone else that needs to take a hike? Bobby Brown. Move on, Mr. Brown. It’s no longer your prerogative.
(note: this might be offensive so I apologize ahead of time)
I know it’s not politically correct to say, and I am even a tad ashamed to say this out loud, but I have a really hard time with old people. Not like, 60 year old-type people, but like the 80 and 90 ones.
Good luck to my mom in 20 years, right? “Hello? Yes, I would like to reserve a room for my mom at your Sleepy Oaks Mature Adults facility. What’s that? Only twin beds in shared rooms tended to by disgrunted minimum wage psuedo-nurses available? Great! Who do I make the check out to?”
It’s not that I don’t like them, per se, but rather I just struggle with them. I think it might be because I am in constant motion and on-the-go, and I hate to be slowed down and I have virtually no patience for anything, including waiting to check out in the Target line. But there must be something else that frustrates me. Today, for instance, I was in the pool, and without warning, this little old lady just gets in my lane, and then tries to signal to me that I should maybe change lanes so she could have mine. I was like, “Listen old lady, I know you’re, well, old, but we can share, right?” Apparently not, because she proceeds to take up both lanes with her stunning demonstration of the breast stroke. And being the ass that I am, I tucked in and kept swimming, refusing to relinquish my lane to anyone, old or young.
See, I want to like them, and respect them in all the ways a youngin should, what with all their years of history, wisdom and experiences. And I mostly do, and usually respond to minor irritations with a smile and friendly words. I do, I swear. I have witnesses. And truth be told, I probably get more annoyed with the general population of people between the age 13-18 than the elderly, but that's whole different post.
But get yelled at by enough elderly at the Y (who yell at you for taking too long to pee or showering too close to them or walking too fast up the stairs, and then watch as they roll their eyes, give the hand wave, and shuffle off mumbling something very un-grandmotherly under their breath) and you’re patience would be tested too.
Or not, whatever. Maybe you're better/more understanding than me.
Wow. I seriously hope the Karma police are on a donut break right now, ‘cause I pretty much just locked myself into a future of elderly abuse, bed sores, and children that don’t visit/can’t stand me during my twilight years.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go volunteer at a homeless shelter or newborn unit to eschew my place in hell.