Who ARE... THEY?

They say it's going to be bitterly cold here in Jersey tonight.  Who are they anyway?  I don't think I've ever actually met one of them before.  If we were to analyze this, we would have to assume that there is more than one, since we always refer to them in the pleural form.  It's never 'he' or 'she' ... always 'they'.  I would also guess that they are young.  Most likely all under the age of thirty, since they seem to have an opinion on just about everything.  If they were employed, married or had children, they wouldn't have time to just go around saying things.  Maybe there aren't as many of them as we think there are.  They just want us to think so.  I know that I'm  not one of them.  No one has ever listened to anything I said before.  Especially my kids.  And yet I have heard all three of them refer to them  many times in the past.  OMG!  Did you read what I just wrote?  'All three of ...THEM!'  Is it possible that MY kids are actually ... THEM?  It does kind of make sense.  Each one of my kids has ALWAYS thought that they knew it ALL since the day they were born.  And I DO have more than one child ...  hence 'THEM.'  Is it possible that my kids really do know everything?   That every word they utter is carefully recorded so it can be repeated whenever necessary?  Is this theory even POSSIBLE?  Am I actually the mother of the chosen few?  Of ... THEM?  The Grand Poobahs behind every fact, speculation, prediction and rumor between Hollywood and Washington, D.C.?  ME?  MY KIDS?

THEM??

Nah.

For all my sisters....

Every time I pass that new Bowflex machine in the living room I feel guilty.  In my mind I can hear my mother's voice saying, "Do you know there are millions of flabby people in other countries that would just LOVE to have an exercise machine like that?"  So today I decided to give it a try.  One wall in front of the Bowflex is mirrored so it's impossible NOT to watch myself.  Hmmm.  I wasn't nearly as coordinated or graceful as I thought I was, but everything always evens out.  I wasn't nearly as thin and firm as I thought I was either.  Which is pretty discouraging since I really didn't imagine myself as the picture of physical fitness in the first place.  Just like all of my past projects, I have more work ahead of me than I thought.  Of course, if I gave up eating Entenmann's Pastries, Tastykakes, and Dunkin' Donuts I would probably get into shape a lot faster.  But... I'm almost 50 years old.  How good should I look anyway?  Do I really want all of my girlfriends to end up hating me?  Do I want to make other women my age feel bad about themselves in comparison?  It will be hard enough on them when they see what great endurance, stamina and flexibility I'll soon have.  How egotistical would it be for me to also become thin, firm and have zero percent body fat as well?  NO!  I am NOT that kind of woman!  I will not cause my Sisters In Menopausal Madness any more misery than they already have!  Today... I am going to stop at Dunkin' Donuts before AND after work!  It's the right thing to do.

A life less extrodinary...

I was absolutely amazed at all the things I learned about some of my fellow Journalers over the weekend.  Many of them posted suprising facts about themselves in their Entries, and then asked their Readers to guess which ones were true.  I was... fascinated.  I thought about joining in the fun, but after a few minutes I realized that there weren't really many things I could write about, that would shock and/or delight MY Readers.  I never worked in a Night Club owned by The Mob like Lanny, from the 'Inside My Head' Journal.  I never kissed a member of any famous rock band, like Monica from 'Whoopie! My Life Is Gonna Be Perfect' did.  My father was never stationed with Elvis Presley in Germany like Sherry's dad from 'The Secret Life Of A Stay At Home Mom'.  I did see a picture he had taken with Roy Rogers at a pigeon race, but somehow, that's not as exciting as Elvis.  And... I've never been given a memento from Mickey Mantle himself, been helped to the Ladies'Room through a crowd by Howard Stern, gotten a Thank You Card from Barbara Walters, ever discussed politics with Bobby Kennedy, or ever, EVER missed an opportunity to have dinner with Mel Gibson like my friend Angela, author of 'My Thoughts' did.  Angela did ALL of those things!  I am not a direct descendant of any royalty, world leader, or celebrity.  I don't hold any records of any kind in any event.  And I've never survived any catastrophe or natural disaster except those that have happened in my own home.  No television commercials or Hollywood movies, either.  I only hope I have a few stories to bore my grandchildren with when they get older.  But I have almost as much fun hearing about other people's adventures as I would if I had them myself.  In the Grand Theater of Life I guess we need both performers and audience members.  So... I'm not only clapping here... I'm standing up.  And to my fellow Journalers and others like them I say... "BRAVO!"

Alien Droppings

I now know there are aliens out there.  I always thought that someday someone would offer proof, but I never thought that someone would be me.  Or that I'd find that proof in my driveway.  Ever since I moved in with Ray I noticed that there were hundreds of little spiked balls laying all over his front lawn.  Ugly, brown, dried up crispy things that are dangerous and annoying.  If you step on one accidentally they roll and cause you to lose your footing, and even frenzied stomping will not crush them.  The spikes will cling to any material they come in contact with.  They especially like socks, slippers, sneakers and bottoms of jeans.  Once attached, they are extremely difficult and painful to remove.  They have no natural enemies, and they don't seem to decay.  Animals won't eat them, even the squirrels won't touch them.  No matter how many times you sweep them up there are always hundreds more in the morning.  I originally thought that they fell from some kind of tree but there are no leaves on the trees in New Jersey now, and there are still hundreds of these spiky balls strewn around.  And... the balls look the same no matter what season it is.  I've never seen such peculiar balls in my entire life and I've walked in woods before and been in my share of Nurseries.  I am even renowned in one of my old neighborhoods for my gardening techniques, but that's another story.  I think that maybe that 'weather station' across the street from my house really ISN'T a weather station afterall.  It could be an Alien Sighting Monitor.  That's why the authorities were out within minutes investigating who planted those shrubs in front of the equipment this past summer.  We were on camera!  The government needed a clear view of the alien crapping ground, which just happened to be my front lawn and driveway.  Things are beginning to make a little more sense now.  Don't you think?

And on the eighth day God went to the gym...

When Ray told me that he was going to use the money that his mother gave him for Christmas to buy something "special" that "both of use could use," and that he was going to "put it in the living room," I figured it could only be one thing.  A set of new living room furniture!  I was both thrilled and excited when he announced that he had "found a brand new one on E-Bay" and that it was "way cheaper than the original price."  All I had to do was to clear out the living room to make room for it while he and a friend drove up to North Jersey to pick it up.  I was so happy that we would finaly have furniture beside the fireplace, even though I was a bit disappointed that he didn't ask me to help him pick it out.  I could just see myself curled up on the couch by a fire, watching the snow fall in the park across the street through our beautiful new window.  When Ray and his friend Tom returned from their trip and opened up the back of the van I realized that it was not a couch or coffee table they were about to unload.  It was a Bowflex Home Gym.  The Ultimate Model.  I was speechless.  Ray was beaming.  It looked so seriously professional that my muscles began to ache just looking at it.  In a word ... it's ... huge.  It takes up half the room.  I have no idea where normal people would put one.  Did I say that it was ... huge?  Ray showed me how it could "fold up for easy storage."  Looked a little like an elephant in a fetal position to me.  He says that he is going to get up early every morning to exercise.  I want to believe him.  But if Ray was any more laid back than he is right now, he'd be dead.  And me?  I think now that we have a Boxflex we can eat a lot more pizza and ice cream.

The Perfect Gift

The Looking Glass

A few weeks before Christmas I told anybody who would listen to me that what I wanted most of all was a mirror.  A stand-up, 9 inch, electric illuminating, distortion free mirror, with a magnification of eight and a handy travel case, to be specific.  I told them all where to buy it and what isle it was on.  A few days before Christmas I began to worry that I wouldn't get one so I went out and bought it myself.  I told Ray that it would be to me from him.  Of course he had already purchased one for me, just like my son, each one of my two daughters, my best friend, and my mother.  I guess I should have trusted them, but I've been disappointed in the past, and I really, really wanted that mirror.  I thought that it would be a lot easier to pluck my eyebrows if I had a mirror with an 8X magnification.  And a light.  Even though it seemed that I didn't have to pluck them as much in the past few years as I did when I was younger.  As I looked into that distortion free mirror yesterday, I realized that I was wrong.  My eyebrow hairs hadn't stopped growing.  They hadn't even slowed down.  I just couldn't SEE them anymore!  Why had no one told me?  Thank God Ray can't see any better than me!  I knew I was beginning to get wrinkles, creases and maybe a little less... facially firm.  After gazing into my virtual reality looking glass practically all afternoon I now realize the full extent of the damage.  I am being... ravaged!  I have wrinkles in places that I have never even seen before!  Facial firmness?  Apparently I've been on simmer for so long that I am now melting.  I have tiny spider veins.  Everywhere!  I think my gums may be receding!  Don't tell me I see a few ... OH NO!  Mustache hairs!  Damn those hormone replacement pills!  Maybe I shouldn't have jumped right in with an 8X.  I should have asked for a 5X first, and slowly eased my way into shock and terror.  Can I ever go back now to my semi-blindness?  Can I ever see myself through rose colored glasses?  Will my mirror ever again tell me that yes, I am the fairest maid of all?  I... somehow doubt it.