Ways in Which I Am Becoming My Grandmother*

Today, while trying to yell at the cat about the fact that she almost made me kill myself by running around directly under my feet while I was walking, I had to go through three former cats' names before getting to the correct one.

*If you were fifth out of 15 granchildren and had to listen to your grandmother do the "roll call" while trying to scold you, you'll understand this reference. (I just feel really sorry for my younger cousins, who had to sit through 12-13 names until Lucy finally got to the right one.) And of course, the roll call was always prefaced by "dang nabbit" or "golsh darnit," as was my cat's roll call this morning--although maybe not as nicely.

Wisdom of the Ancients

Tonight, I got to attempt to explain to Emmeline what a record player is. Needless to say, I was met with utter confusion. I can't wait until she's a teenager and I get to tell her about how I was 12 when we first got a microwave and a VCR and that I was in my mid-20's when the internet became accessible to the average person. (Of course, then I'll have to explain to her what a VCR is.) Now I know how my parents felt when they explained to me that they didn't have television until they were about eight or nine and that it was in black and white. The horror! This could be fun....

Four-Oh

So, I'm 40 years old now--is it time for me to have my mid-life crisis? Personally, 40 seems a little late to have a mid-life crisis. I think my chances of making it to 80 are fair to middling.

Do people in New Orleans say "fair to middling? Or is that just another Southernism that y'all have never heard of? Like "full as a tick on a hound dog?" That's my personal favorite. I'm going to go out on a limb and venture that people from, say, Vermont have definitely never heard of the hound dog simile. Prove me wrong.

So anyway, I'm 40 now. What do you, my faithful two readers, think I should do to celebrate? Right now, there are about 4 votes that I should go get a tattoo and a nose ring (kidding). Although I have thought about getting another tattoo. Yes, I have one--it's personal. But not in an "I got drunk and got some guy's name tattooed on my butt and then we broke up" kinda way. Just in an "It's personal, it meant something to me, and I did it only for me and very few people know about it" kinda way.

Thank you, dear husband, for a wonderful surprise 40th birthday party, complete with getting old friends into town and a very hungover brunch at Commander's the next day. Pictures to follow at some point, once I find the time to edit them.

Random Musings #7

I haven't had a chance in the past couple of days to do my usual perusal of pretty much every NOLA blog known to man, but in light of the news that's come out over the past few days, I'm willing to make a wager right now that the phrase "Shanghai surprise" is making the circuit. Time will tell when I have a chance to surf. I'm also willing to go out on a big limb here and predict that people in New Orleans are not exactly broken up over the fact that our mayor is being quarantined in China. How could our city government get any worse? I, for one, will not be pining for C. Ray's return.

As I said in a FB posting, I am so officially old now. Yes, I will be FORTY in 20 days (technically, 19 days and two hours, but who's counting?). For the most part, I feel okay about this whole aging thing. Would I like to go back and be 17 for a couple of days? God, yes. But it's okay--I've had 15 years to get used to gray hair (thank you, Ms. Clairol) and all of the other joys that go along with aging. But the thing that still kinda disturbs me and makes me realize that I really am officially middle-aged now (other than the screaming at children to get off my lawn) is the fact that I'm so out of the Top 40, Entertainment Tonight loop that it's not even funny. Who in the hell is Shia LaBouef? I see his name all over the place now. I have no idea of who he is, and I don't care--I'm not even willing to google it and find out who this guy that all of the teeny-boppers are swooning over is. Did I mention that everyone should get off my lawn?