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I’ve Got The Magic Power…

Hey! Welcome to 52 weeks until I’m 50 years old! Actually it’s now 42 weeks until I’m 50! If you are new to my blog, to the right are other subjects I’ve written. Some may resonate with you or at least give you a chuckle. If you are counting down with me,so glad you are still with me!

music

Music means so much to me. I hear a song and I’m transported back to a moment in time. The song may remind me of where I was, a person I was with or a moment that just crystallized something for me. I can relate to the poetry or story the lyrics represent so often. You know what I mean. You hear a song that played when you had your first really amazing kiss. Remember the song that played when you didn’t want to leave someone as you were driving away? The tunes that played while you were hanging out with your friends and you sang the chorus in unison? Your first concert and all the other concerts you’ve been to where every word was burnt into your memory and you sang them with all your soul. The fist-pumping you do when you hear your favorites. Turn it up, louder, decibels that could blow out the speakers so you feel alive! I’ve got the music in me. I feel it coming over me….Somethin’s at the edge of your mind, you don’t know what it is. Somethin’ you were hopin’ to find. Your not sure what it is.Then you hear the music and it all comes crystal clear. The music does the talkin’, says the things you want to hear. I’m young, I’m wild, and I’m free…I’ve got the Magic Power of the music in me!

At 49.42 left until 50, lyrics and music are part of my being and fill me daily. It’s the way I communicate with others. Lyrics, song titles and even movie lines. I dig the poetry. I dig relating to the stories. I dig singing in unison with thousands of others. There’s nothing like a little tune-age to make you feel alive. So this week, I share my love of lyrics with you.

Here’s a little ditty from me, Ran. “Ooh you make me live, whatever this world can give to me. It’s you you’re all I see. Ooo you make me live now honey. Ooo you make me live..Ooh you’re the best friend that I ever had. I’ve been with you such a long time, you’re my sunshine and I want you to know, that my feelings are true. I really love you. You’re my best friend.  Life Is A Rock but the radio rolled me. Gotta turn it up louder, so my DJ told me.Life Is a Rock but the radio rolled me, at the end of my rainbow lies a golden oldie. And…no one…absolutely no one…should ever, I mean ever Rain On My Parade! Don’t tell me not to live, just sit and putter, life’s candy and the sun’s a ball of butter, don’t bring around a cloud to rain on my parade. Don’t tell me not to fly–I’ve simply got to. If someone takes a spill, it’s me and not you. Who told you you’re allowed to rain on my parade! I’m gonna live and live now. You with me? Because…Life is a Highway and I want to ride it all night long. If you’re going my way, I want to drive it all night long. Then morning comes and It’s A Beautiful Day, sky falls, you feel like it’s a beautiful day, don’t let it get away! You’re on the road but you’ve got no destination. I want you to see the world in green and blue. And remember, One love, one life, we get to share it, leaves you baby if you don’t care for it. And there’s a time for everyone if they only learn, that the twisting kaleidoscope moves us all in turn, There’s a rhyme and reason to the wild outdoors, when the heart of this star-crossed voyager beats in time with yours. Can You Feel The love Tonight? And, do you know that there’s a Hero if you look inside your heart? You don’t have to be afraid of what you are. There’s an answer if you reach into your soul and the sorrow that you know will melt away. I believe People, people who need people, are the luckiest people in the world. Isn’t it rich, aren’t we a pair? Me here at last on the ground, you in mid-air? Send in the Clowns! Yup…I love the clowns! But I want you to tell everybody this is Your Song. It may be quite simple, but now that it’s done, I hope you don’t mind, that I put down in words. How wonderful life is while you’re in the world. But that’s not all, I see trees of green, red roses too. I see them bloom for me and you, And I think to myself what a Wonderful World. I see skies of blue and clouds of white. The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night. And I think to myself what a Wonderful World. And maybe you can try to get up every morning with a smile on your face and show the world all the love in your heart. Then people gonna treat you better, you’re gonna find, yes you will, that you’re Beautiful as you feel! And you can come with me to the Top Of The World. Look down on creation and the only explanation we will find, is the love that I’ve found ever since you’ve been around, your love’s put me at the Top Of The World. Always remember, my love for you is immeasurable. My respect for you immense. You’re ageless, timeless, lace and fineness. You’re beauty and elegance. You’re a rhapsody, a comedy. You’re a symphony and a play. You’re every love song ever written. And guess what? You mean the world to me…

Thanks for visiting and I hope you had a chuckle. You can subscribe to be notified when I blog below by signing up, follow me on Twitter @GatorgirlPress or Twitter @Diningduchess, follow me on Facebook @RandiAileenPress or Facebook@DiningDuchess. Or if you’d like to write me directly, my email is randi@52TO50.com.

 

Running Down A Dream…

Hey! Welcome to 52 weeks until I’m 50 years old! Actually it’s now 43 weeks until I’m 50! If you are new to my blog, to the right are other subjects I’ve written. Some may resonate with you or at least give you a chuckle. If you are counting down with me,so glad you are still with me!

sole sista

The opening bars to Born to Run fill my ears loudly often when I start  my runs. Breathe “Tin Girl” …breathe. Inhale three counts, strike, exhale two. And the common chant in my head… Don’t let yourself out of the gate too quickly Randi. Pace yourself. Inhale three, strike, exhale two. Rhythmic. I’m striving for that pattern. If you run, jog or race walk, you dig what I’m saying here. If you don’t, totally OK. Running and racing is a sport that most people think is crazy. The physicality of my sport is brutal at times. “Pre,” better known as Steve Prefontaine, is a hero to so many in the sport of running. He’s been gone 38 years now but still remains in the minds of so many of us. I read a recent story about him in April’s Runner’s World and cried as Michael Heald, the writer of That Pre Thing, shared his recount of Pre and his connection to running. I’ve cried at the end of every race I’ve done. Can’t help myself. It’s an emotional thing… this running with thousands of others.

Running quotes also give me tons to laugh about. Barry Magee said, “Anyone can run 20 miles. It’s the next six that count.” Love that! And, “It’s not 26.2 miles…it’s 10 water stops.” Fred Lebow’s, “Few things in life match the thrill of a marathon.” And, “Anyone can run a hundred meters, it’s the next forty-two thousand and two hundred that count.” And a silly favorite, “At mile 20, I thought I was dead. At mile 22, I wished I was dead. At mile 24, I knew I was dead. At mile 26.2, I realized I had become too tough to kill!” But the one that has always lingered with me is John Hanc’s quote, “I’ve learned that finishing a marathon isn’t just an athletic achievement. It’s a state of mind; a state of mind that says anything is possible.”

I decided to run my first marathon at Disney when I was 38. 26.2 grueling miles around and through all that “magic” was a memory I will always cherish. It defined my “willingness” to push beyond anything I thought possible. Mind and body. Since then, I’ve done other half and full marathons. Marine Corps in Washington, DC was my favorite. I ran up the hill to the finish at the Iwo Jima Memorial and two marines placed the finisher medal over my head. I sobbed. Found my biggest fan, my Mother, who cheers me on at every mile and should receive a medal herself for the ridiculous schedule she keeps on those days. Cool down and realized I’m hooked again. Fly home, sign up for another. And there I was, clicking the button for The Disney Princess Half Marathon. It’s addictive this running thing.

I’m always looking for that next race. Alone, or with others. I run because I can. I remember writing that to folks as I was fundraising with the Team in Training program for Leukemia & Lymphoma that hooked me into becoming a marathoner. I run for the glorious feeling of being in the sunshine. I run to visit with the flowers, swamps, vultures, snakes, frogs, gators, horses, armadillo, ducks, birds and whatever else crosses my path. Inhale three, strike, exhale two. Running makes me take deep breaths. Deep breaths help me see what’s real everyday in the world. My world. And with 43 weeks left until 50, I’m incredibly grateful for what I’ve seen through these eyes running all over the world.  Here I am again. Click. Register again.Tower of Terror 10 miler. Up early to beat the heat, lacing up my shoes ready to inhale three, strike, exhale two.

I recently read a runner’s blog of a man in England. He captured so much of what I believe as well. “Racing along out on the trails, splashing through puddles, letting the rain drench us, the wind ruffle us, we begin to sense a faint recollection of that childish joy. Somewhere a primal essence stirs deep within us; this being born not to sit at a desk or read newspapers and drink coffee, but to live a wilder existence. As we run, the layers of responsibility and identity we have gathered in our lives, the father, mother, lawyer, teacher, labels all fall away, leaving us with the raw human being underneath. It’s a rare thing, and it can be confronting. Some of us will stop, almost shocked by ourselves, by how our heart is pumping, by how our mind is racing, struggling with our attempts to leave it behind. But if we push on, running harder, deeper into the loneliness, further away from the world and the structure of our lives, we begin to feel strangely elated, detached yet at the same time connected, connected to ourselves. With nothing but our own two legs moving us, we begin to get a vague, tingling sense of who, or what, we really are.” I love that.

I find the “real me” every time I hit the path around the swamp and park I hold dear. I’m Running Down A Dream every time I lace up my shoes. I am grateful to Petty who plays that song in my ear and paces me to inhale three, strike, exhale two.

Thanks for visiting and I hope you had a chuckle. You can subscribe to be notified when I blog below by signing up, follow me on Twitter @GatorgirlPress or Twitter @Diningduchess, follow me on Facebook @RandiAileenPress or Facebook@DiningDuchess. Or if you’d like to write me directly, my email is randi@52TO50.com.

The Skin I’m In…

savagetan010708

Hey! Welcome to 52 weeks until I’m 50 years old! Actually it’s now 44 weeks until I’m 50! If you are new to my blog, below are other subjects I’ve pondered and written about. Some may resonate with you or at least give you a chuckle. If you are counting down with me,so glad you are still with me!

I still find myself thinking like a kid sometimes even though I have to be a grown-up most times. Remember recess? I loved recess. A few minutes to step outside of the classroom and breathe in that fresh Florida sunshine, tilt my head way back and reach my arms out to the side. Ahhhh…the sky so clear. I would pretend the clouds were shapes. You know you did also! Recess became gym. After gym, dance practice and homework. Running on my little hamster wheel of a teenage life until Saturday and Sunday at Deerfield Beach. Left side of Deerfield pier. Ranch House, volleyball nets, surfers and the Aloha Snack Bar where I worked early Saturday and Sunday until 3 pm. Once finished, I would run down, toss my T-shirt and Levi’s off and neatly roll my logo’ed towel out to soak up whatever rays were left that day while chatting. There we were, the sun-worshipers covered in Hawaiian Tropic Dark Tanning, Banana Boat Deep Tanning, Tropical Blend Savage Tan, Coppertone and for some, just straight baby oil with a few drops of iodine. Hot, glazed, sparkling in our skin so young. And for me, being olive-skinned made it so very appealing.

Fast forward 31 years. I’m still a Florida girl. I stopped sun-worshiping in my early 30′s after the constant harassment of my Dad’s best friend, dermatologist Eddy and fisherman-at-large. Every weekend while filleting the catch of the day on my parents dock, there he was…reminding me of the skin I’m in. He was always covered from head to toe in beige clothing. You could barely see a pinch of skin. Always skillful as he filleted the fish just as he had to do in surgery trying to save someone’s skin from cancer later. I remember doing my famous eye roll while saying “Look at Dad’s skin. He’s so dark! He looks so healthy… and he has good skin genes!” He would tell me that later on, he’ll be carving him up like the Dolphin he was preparing for the grill. I would giggle and tell him I was putting on my sunscreen immediately. Now at almost 50, I am so grateful to dermatologist Eddy. He’s been gone more than ten years now. I still hear his voice when I use my own to repeat his sun prevention chatter to my kids who are olive-skinned sun-lovers.

Botox, Juvederm, Restylane, fillers and tighteners, oh my! You can fill crow’s feet, marionette lines, thinning lips and furrows between the brows, taking years off the face–erasing your face’s character…and all can be done during your lunch hour! Who knew? I have marketed for a few plastic surgeons. Those few I believe are the best at what they do. But I have seen some real doozie’s lately! People who have one eyebrow higher than another, smiles that don’t stop, lips so full that they could burst. I have to say, I’m really challenged about this whole trying to stop the aging process on the skin I’m in. I get that people want to look their very best for their age. I’m so there! It’s not easy. I work hard to stay in shape and to keep my skin looking decent. I’ve never done any of the products above but I may want to in the future. I have the brow furrow. That’s from years of debating with myself and others! Ha. And, I have the line now on my right cheek (your left when looking at me smiling) and when I’m not smiling…it’s a little droopy. And hell, I have crows feet from all my squinting and laughing through each day of my life. All that crap is part of my character. My family makes fun of the special face oil I use every night because it takes me 15 minutes to take my mascara off, wash, oil up my neck, face and ear lobes. Man does that stuff smell delish! I hear them calling, “Are you ready to go to bed yet?” I’ve tried tons of product for stopping my eye lines right now! Creams to soften my smile lines and crap to fill my brow furrow. A few really do work like the “Miracle Eraser.” It’s 20 bucks and makes what I call my “debate” furrow disappear for a few hours! I know I can’t stop the aging of the skin I’m in. So, I’m going to keep my sparklee Gator hat on, my sunglasses that probably cost 3 dollars to put the Prada logo on and sit under an non-logo’ed umbrella at the beach covered in sweat proof SPF 50! Oh if only dermatologist, fisherman-at-large Eddy could see me now! Yeh, I’ve become a skin worshiper instead and I’m grateful for the skin I’m in because it tells the story of my life.

Thanks for visiting and I hope you had a chuckle. You can subscribe to be notified when I blog below by clicking, follow me on Twitter @GatorgirlPress or Twitter @Diningduchess, follow me on Facebook @RandiAileenPress or Facebook@DiningDuchess. Or if you’d like to write me directly, my email is randi@52TO50.com.

Should I Get Some Class?

GettyImages_78494704-first-class-seat

Hey! Welcome to 52 weeks until I’m 50 years old! Actually it’s now 45 weeks until I’m 50! If you are new to my blog, below are other subjects I’ve pondered and written about. Some may resonate with you or at least give you a chuckle. If you are counting down with me, thank you and let me know how I’m doing!

I have a few fantasies. Not only am I a rock star, but I am also a world traveler.Traveling is my way of collecting visual memories for the scrapbook that lives in my mind. It’s also a way of experiencing history in person. I don’t feel the need to collect art for the walls in my home. I’d rather spend the money to see history and art in person through travel. I have this line I’ve been saying for many years, “Fill my passport and my jewelry box,” not my house.There’s a reason for it. And it may be a curse actually. My grandmother Anne, who is still kicking at 102, is a world traveler. She would spend her summers abroad and always brought back what I call “wearable art,” otherwise known as jewelry. She’s adorned me with some beautiful pieces over the years.” And, I have followed somewhat in her traveling footsteps.

I recognize these feelings inside me of being pulled…to stand where other marathoners stood in Athens and feel the ground beneath my running shoes. To swim in the “Blue Lagoon” in Tahiti just like Brooke Shields did. I want to jump off a (small) cliff in Satorini into the Mediterranean with my stomach in my throat screaming all the way just like the girl did in the “Traveling Pants” movie. And, I love to experience culture, people and taste meals like Diana Lane did in “Underneath the Tuscan Sun.” I’m in awe when I see firsthand what famous architects have created that has stood the tests of time with my own eyes. I can never contain the excitement of searching for a trip, finding my next experience and then counting it down. But…I have to say…to be a world traveler, you really have to get some class.

So I ask you, have you bought class, and should I? I have flown Coach most of my life and for a 5’2″ chick on a good day, it’s been relatively fine. But really, 12 hours in a seat that measures 18.25 inches and only reclines enough to give you a backache, when is it worth the bucks to buy some class? I questioned my taller friends, which is pretty much anyone taller than me! They relentlessly spoke about the lack of  leg room to stretch. Finding foot room in front is crowded with someone’s stuff. Their knees are pushed neatly against their tray tables which of course, are in their upright position. And, the person sitting next to them doesn’t know where his or her space ends and ours begins. The answers were absolutely hilarious. How our minds work to rationalize spending money, or not, and where the threshold is has me pondering. Flying stiff, sore and annoyed when “they,” the folks who have purchased some “class” have the flight attendants close the ugly, silly half a curtain on the folks down the aisle! LOL! When should one “world traveler” choose to purchase some serious class? Have you answered that question? My inquiring mind wants to know!

I’ve learned that in Business Class, the seats recline, but not totally flat – still, enough to get a good night’s sleep.There are pre-flight drinks (oh my…I like that) and newspapers (do people still have these now that iPad has taken over the world?), the attendants take care of you the minute you get into your seat. Kind of nice. May be worth considering. Read on and you may really want to be “Classy!” First Class is something else. Class is sexy. The seats have more positions- schmancy lumbar buttons and side-to-side buttons – and a space for your carry-on luggage by your seat. I dig that. And…audio books, movies of all kinds in addition to the in-flight movies! A trolley with wine selections! I think I may have just answered my own question of threshold! But then…here it is, wait for it…a dessert tray with selections! As a foodie though, I need to remind myself that the food and wine are still nothing like restaurant quality but who cares, I can recline more than 6 inches! Are they still trying to impress me? I find little extras like sleek pouches with shampoos, spritzers and slippers? What to think? And all for a mere $600 or so a person extra.

I consider myself a down to earth girl. Yes, I’m the dewfess on the plane who purchases the aisle seat so I have control of when I go to the bathroom without permission from another. If you watched “Whitney” last week, I get her! We both purchase aisle seats when traveling in pairs! I am also the dewfess who wears the over-sized noise cancelling headphones to block out others conversations so I can dream of my next adventure and the goofy eye cover that says “If I’m Wearing This, Don’t Ask Me What I Want To Eat.” I’ve learned to sleep anywhere. I’m thinking I don’t need to buy too much class. It doesn’t enhance the trip all that much.Plus, let’s face it…if I fly cramped, I have more hard-core cash to bring back a little “wearable art.”  You with me or are you buying class?

Thanks for visiting and I hope you had a chuckle. You can subscribe to be notified when I blog below by clicking, follow me on Twitter @GatorgirlPress or Twitter @Diningduchess, follow me on Facebook @RandiAileenPress or Facebook@DiningDuchess. Or if you’d like to write me directly, my email is randi@52TO50.com.

A Little Star Struck…

Shane and Randi

Hey! Welcome to 52 weeks until I’m 50 years old! Actually it’s now 46 weeks until I’m 50! If you are new to my blog, below are other subjects I’ve pondered and written about. Some may resonate with you or at least give you a chuckle. If you are counting down with me, thank you and let me know how I’m doing!

I’ve always wanted to be a rock star. Play guitar, wear crazy wicked black boots, belt out lyrics that make people feel something…connect with the audience as they fist pump and sing along with me…a real rocker. Vocal range somewhere between Sheryl Crowe and Pat Benatar. Big voice coming out of a little girl. That’s me…in my rocker fantasy. Why a rocker? Mainly because music causes a reaction inside of me. I can sing at the top of my lungs and I feel like I’m set free. OK…back to reality. My rock star career ended when I graduated Dillard School of the Performing Arts and had to go to college to find a real life. Don’t misunderstand, I’m still a rock star in my mind. I’m not sad about not being a star. I can’t imagine having no anonymity. Or, the constant ridicule that comes with stardom. I’m not one of those girls who has a desire to meet George Clooney or Bradley Cooper (OK…I don’t lie…if Bradley is across from me, I’m going to want to chat him up). But overall, I could care less if I ever met anyone in Hollywood. Now, sport stars…that’s a whole different ball game.

I’m a football and basketball fanatic. Define fanatic. A person with excessive enthusiasm and often intense uncritical devotion. Yup, if you know me. That’s me. I follow my college basketball and football players into the NFL and NBA. I can’t wait to watch them develop and continue their careers. I admire hardcore athleticism and the will to play beyond what you believe to be possible. I’ve followed many of my favorite Miami HEAT players and Florida Gators for years. I call them my boys. And, with them, I am completely star struck.

At 49 years old and 46 weeks until I’m 50, I can now totally admit that last Saturday night at an event with Miami HEAT basketball players, I was totally star struck like a little kid. I thought all week about what I would ask/say to each HEAT player I might have an opportunity to chat up. I tried to be strategic about it. You know, a 5’2″ girl talking with 6’9 plus elite athletes can be kind of daunting even for someone who knows their stuff! So I was prepared. I had the rock star inside me. And then…there it was…the butterflies, the silly giggle, the wide-eyed gaze, a smile from ear to ear that wouldn’t quit and the neck bent way back to look up to all my favorite players. Who am I? Who is this girl? Am I a sports freak or just a freak? I was paralyzed. My guys were all coming in at the same time walking straight towards me. I grab Haslem. I’m mumbling some kind of Gator chant. Then I steal Anthony for a few moments. I realize while I am looking up that he’s cracking a grin at my blabbering chat about his rebounding and defense. I see Anderson, the Birdman. I’m totally paralyzed. I can’t even catch his eyes cause I’m too star struck. Chalmers, Super Mario, is next to me and so shy. I’m just smiling. Click the picture. Tell him how the game changing basket at Kansas was awesome. And then, my buddy who is as struck as I am…like a little kid  in awe, grabs my hand and pulls me over to one of my favorite HEAT forwards, Shane Battier. I’ve watched Battier interviewed. He’s a Duke man. So smart and articulate. And incredibly handsome in person. And then I can feel her… the rock star inside me. She’s confident. She’s smart about her sport. She’s ready to rock. And…then…She didn’t belt it out, she babbled it! My buddies recollection is as follows: “Ran…when you walked up to him, Shane Battier (in front of his wife), this is what came out…”I loved you when you played for Duke, and I love when you are wide open on the three-point line and you are going to shoot, I know it’s going in,and I love..” That’s when he said…” Randi, let’s take a picture of you with Shane now so he can enjoy the rest of the evening without hearing your babble! Shane threw his head back and let out a howling laughter before he pulled me in and took the picture. His wife was laughing as well. I believe I thanked him and then began to walk away. I turned to my best buddy and said, “What the hell did I just say to him…and did anything make sense?” LOL!

I have pictures with a lot of athletes. I’m so fortunate to have worked with some and met others. And no matter how many times I pretend I can handle my excitement…it’s just not possible. These guys fly, sometimes hang in the air at unbelievable speed. They have strength and muscular stature in person that’s quite impressive and skill beyond anything that seems real sometimes. I find myself in awe of them when I meet them as people. They’re approachable, kind and even willing to let a little chick like me babble on. Thank you Chalmers, Battier, Haslem, Anderson, Anthony and Howard. You made me believe I was a rock star again just for a moment!

Thanks for visiting and I hope you had a chuckle. You can subscribe to be notified when I blog below by clicking, follow me on Twitter @GatorgirlPress or Twitter @Diningduchess, follow me on Facebook @RandiAileenPress or Facebook@DiningDuchess. Or if you’d like to write me directly, my email is randi@52TO50.com.

Charades…Such Is Life…

charades

Hey! Welcome to 52 weeks until I’m 50 years old! Actually it’s now 47 weeks! If you are new to my blog, below are other subjects I’ve pondered and written about. Some may resonate with you or at least give you a chuckle. If you are counting down with me, thank you and let me know how I’m doing!

I’ve always been fortunate to be told I have a great memory. I remember details about others, their families, stories and of course the thousands of things I’ve promised never to tell! I file them in a secret box way in the back of my memory bank. That’s the only bank I have that’s almost full of deposits!  I’ve never really understood why folks used the analogy of having a memory as good as an elephant but learned recently that elephants follow the same paths and even hand down genetic memories. So there it is.

Back to the memory thing…I’m acutely aware that I’m getting older by the moment through this countdown and I’ve recently noticed that I’m playing the charade game a lot! Remember that game? It’s a word guessing game. A team member has a limited period of time in which to convey the secret phrase to the guesser by pantomime. Remember what a pantomime is? The telling of a story without words, by means of bodily movements, gestures, and facial expressions. I can do that no problem! When I hear something, it’s rare not to know what I’m thinking right away from my expressions. I wear my thoughts totally on my face, not on my sleeve. I can never figure out how someone actually wears a heart on a sleeve but back to my expressions. I usually have some goofy eyebrow movements or the well-known eye roll that I have perfected over many years and was my signature move when I was in my teens. I know you probably have perfected that as well. My Mom still makes me do the roll for her and bat my lashes once in a while for a good laugh.

Back to charades.

What’s that word? Who’s that singer? Where’s that place we like? What’s that place called? Remember that chick? Oh man, remember that time we…? Is it just me or do you find yourself asking those questions constantly now? Maybe first to yourself and then out loud to others? The other night I am standing with a group of friends at an event and I start telling a story. And then I start to smile. I have this silly feeling inside. You know, the one when you know you are going to blow a story! I realize halfway through that I can’t recall the place we went and now I’m hitting my fingers against the high top, using my silly expression to show that I’m totally lost and I start sounding it out! The others with me start guessing. I don’t have a board to draw on. I can see it in my head but I can’t make it fly off the tip of my tongue! My friends all start chiming in, start asking questions, screaming out names, places, pointing, laughing, now they’re tapping the table, asking others around them… and finally, someone guesses it! There I am jumping up and down like an idiot touching my nose and saying “ding, ding, ding! Yes!!!! That’s it!” I’m hysterical and at the top of my lungs I am saying “ding, ding, ding!” Can you just picture it? And the laughter erupts! My life has become moments of pantomiming and charades! Better yet, I find myself constantly using that phrase from the Looney Toons cartoon,  ”ba-dee aba-dee a-ba-dee, that’s all folks! That’s all I can remember! And more laughter comes as that’s become a closing line for me when I say goodbye to friends on the phone!

I’m thinking I need to carry around a sketch pad now to make sure that I’m prepared to play Pictionary at any moment. It won’t be that easy. I’m a much better performer than an artist. Who knows, you may have to be on the other end of my team guessing what the heck I’m trying to tell you at some point. Remember, this is coming from the girl who may actually create the “Depends Thong” because she’s constantly in a state of giggle. And, we may laugh so hard trying to figure out what I’m saying that we just may lose bladder control! See an earlier blog below for that story!

Next time you are trying to figure out where you were, what that place was called or who you were with…Yup…you’ll get me and you will have to crack a grin because your life may also have become…just like mine…a pantomime! And soon you will be using the line… ”ba-dee aba-dee a-ba-dee, that’s all folks!

Thanks for visiting and I hope you had a chuckle. You can subscribe to be notified when I blog below by clicking, follow me on Twitter @GatorgirlPress or Twitter @Diningduchess, follow me on Facebook @RandiAileenPress or Facebook@DiningDuchess. Or if you’d like to write me directly, my email is randi@52TO50.com.

 

 

 

 

 

52TO50…Hair…Hair …Everywhere Hair!

hairHey! Welcome to 52 weeks until I’m 50 years old! Actually it’s now 48 weeks! If you are new to my blog, below are other subjects I’ve pondered and written about. Some may resonate with you or at least give you a chuckle. If you are counting down with me, thank you and let me know how I’m doing!

Do you remember the show “Hair?” The tune that was sung so often…”She asks me why, I’m just a hairy guy, I’m hairy noon and night, hair that’s a fright, I’m hairy high and low, don’t ask me why, don’t know..It’s not for lack of bread, like the Greatful Dead!”

We all…both sexes… want shiny, thick beautiful hair. But let’s face it, we are starting to find the stuff in places we don’t want it! Yes, you know I’m right. The first time I saw hair growing out of my big toe, I remember thinking…this is soooo not sexy! And now the one in-between my eyebrows that is always just coming through my skin…that one…you know…that freaking bad boy hair that shows up in the same place and is too short to tweeze but you can still see the damn thing even with our over almost 50 eyes! When I see my face in the mirror in the car when the sun is shining, I believe I may actually be growing a beard and now I can even see the peach fuzz on my cheeks. One of my girlfriends fights with a hair that seems to reproduce daily out of her chin! I find myself cracking up initially and then having dialogue with myself about hair. I love having long, thick smooth hair on my head. I’m grateful that I have it there. But, come on, really, I don’t want to negotiate with it on other areas of my body that are just not supposed to have it! My male buddies share that their hair has just re-located from their head to their ears, nose, fingers and back. We start to laugh about all the places that hair has decided to call home these days.

What is the deal with this hair thing? Men and women both have more sprouting up then when we were younger! All these hormones flying around us between “menopause” and “manopause” are causing more vigorous hair growth particularly in the areas that we don’t desire! Some have even shaved their heads and feel liberated as they would never want the “comb-over!”

Body hair and me, we don’t like to share space. I decided to do the laser deal. I paid the doctor and began the five-week cycle of 10 minute per week removal rounds. This is when the weak are weeded out from the insane. Oh yeh. This is not for wussies. The doc neglected to share how truly painful specific areas of laser hair removal are. And, you sometimes have to expose yourself in a way some people can never get over! I manage to find a way to get over almost anything once I find humor in it. I did in this one. And, I became very close with my hair remover. There’s no way you can go that far and not have some kind of friendship. One of my other friends decided to go after I started. Yup. Her husband thanks me often. We use to text each other words of encouragement before our 10 minute sessions! She once told me she thought she heard me cursing from the office 10 miles away! Brutal, just brutal. But, I will say, and this is of course after pain killers and cortisone cream…how grateful I am that it’s over! Now if I see a hair anywhere that was once visited by the laser, I quietly say to it…”Hasta la vista mother follicle!”

Thanks again for visiting! I’m so glad you did! You can subscribe to be notified when I blog below by clicking, follow me on Twitter @GatorgirlPress or Twitter @Diningduchess, follow me on Facebook @RandiAileenPress or Facebook@DiningDuchess. Or if you’d like to write me directly, my email is randi@52TO50.com.

 

“Not Going To Sugar Coat This…”

deja poo

Hey! Welcome to 52 weeks until I’m 50 years old! Actually it’s now 49 weeks! If you are a newbie…scroll down to my original post and you will understand why I began this blog…If you are back for more…Yay! And thank you for hanging with me!

I love Alanis Morissette. She gets it! Isn’t life ironic? You know…You finally get your head together and then your body starts falling apart! I love the song and heard it the other day. The lyrics are so telling…”The traffic jam and you’re already late, a non-smoking sign on your cigarette break, there’s like 10,000 spoons when all you need is a knife. Or maybe…the free ride when you’ve already paid, It’s the good advice that you just didn’t take.  It started me thinking. I hear people using clichés all the time. I’d like to think I’m striving to be somewhat original about my own sayings. Who wrote these clichés? One day I actually responded to a text message in all clichés. It was hilarious! Try it sometime. You’ll be surprised how many you know…and how ridiculous they are!

This proves I’m getting old. I actually remember most of these! Some clichés are fantastic while others, I asked myself, “Who crafted these things?” My favorite that remains to have no answer is, “All Is Not Lost.” Well I want to know where it is and how I can find it? And why do I find myself saying “To make a long story short” when anyone who knows me, knows that’s virtually impossible for me! And what about “I’m all ears?” What a picture that makes! I don’t believe “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” I believe I miss the crap out of you and you better visit or I’m going to be pissed! I get the “Beggars can’t be choosers” but some of the beggars I’ve seen have become strategic in where they choose to beg, so maybe they can! “All’s fair in love and war?” This person totally missed it! I do enjoy using “All others pale by comparison” because that’s pretty damn special! And I can attest that in some cases “Two head are NOT better than one!” I’m sure you can also! Obviously the person who came up with “There are plenty of other fish in the sea” enjoyed the art of fishing. “You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink…” I’ve done this and you don’t have to make him drink…he just will. “What goes around comes around.” Still trying to figure out how to benchmark and measure that one. Have any ideas? “Good things come to those who wait.” Honey…I can promise you, if you don’t ask for what you want, you won’t get good things! LOL!  ”Easy as pie.” I don’t make pie because it’s really not that easy. Brownies, yes! “Work like a dog?” My dog always laid around and slept. And “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth?” This one I can’t even touch…or “Gave it the old college try.”  But I will touch “You can only milk a dead cow once.” That’s really interesting! Or “A hair on the head is worth six on the back.” I would like to think more on the head would be better for most! “I’m not just blowing smoking up your ass.” If you know me…you know that’s not even a thought, I’m brutally honest! And finally, “At the end of the day,” I’m always looking for some comic relief. I hope I provided some for you. I know the next time you find yourself saying a cliché or hearing one…you’ll crack a grin!

Thanks again for visiting! I’m so glad you did! You can subscribe to be notified when I blog below by clicking, follow me on Twitter @GatorgirlPress or Twitter @Diningduchess, follow me on Facebook @RandiAileenPress or Facebook@DiningDuchess. Or if you’d like to write me directly, my email is randi@52TO50.com.

 

 

 

 

 

Do Do Do…Roll With The Changes…Keep On Rollin…

My 2007 V8 Toyota Sequoia. She's a war/work horse

My 2007 V8 Toyota Sequoia. She’s a war/work horse

Hey! Welcome to 52 weeks until I’m 50 years old! Actually it’s now 50 weeks! If you are a newbie…scroll down to my original post and you will understand why I began this blog…If you are back for more…Yay! And thank you for coming along for the ride!

Above is an image of my second Toyota Sequoia Limited truck. She’s been my ride since September 2007. Her predecessor was a silver Sequoia SR5 and I had her for 4 years before her lease was up. I own this one and she’s totally decked out. Everything you can possibly need, she has. I call her “Swamp Thing.” Why am I sharing this with you? Last week friends had to put their animal down. My heart hurt for them. I’ve been there. You may have had that experience as well. So how does that connect to my Swamp Thing? She’s my war-horse. My work horse. She’s big, strong, fast and wears her mileage really freaking well! I love her chassis. I think she’s a rare beauty. She’s immaculate inside but has a few minor bumps and bruises on the outside that tell her story. She turned 100,000 miles in Atlanta traffic last August on my way up to hike Rainbow Falls in Sapphire Valley, NC. Yup. First time I’ve ever had any car or truck that long. She’s really something. We have a relationship. I know her curb weight, she knows mine. I know her torque, tow capacity, what makes her purr and how much she can take. She knows me as intimately.

My Swamp Thing has driven me in the heat to Gainesville to meet my Gator girlfriends with treats packed carefully, never breaking a precious bottle. She has safely carried me to Myrtle Beach in the middle of the night to meet the same friends and witnessed what I swear was a flying wild boar! OK…I was 11 hours into a drive and it was 5 am but we both believe that to be true! She has made countless trips up I-95 to Savannah, GA to carry special honey that I purchase every year from the Savannah Bee Company. She has carefully maneuvered the western part of the North Carolina mountain range and enjoyed eyeing the Chattooga’s whitewater rapids while I paddled ferociously past the Deliverance portion…(play your banjo here!). I’ve packed her full and pulled a lot of things behind me. She never waivers. And, I drive her like she’s a race horse. She is well-known by many as she passes by with her sports flags and magnets. She has entertained me so and has tolerated my years of playing loud rock music and singing like I’m in concert. Like an animal, she greets me everyday the same way, is always ready to roll with the changes and never asks for much.

I am praying that she will carry me all the way from 52 to 50 and be part of my life going forward. I don’t know what I will do if I have to put her down. And, I know I will not get another to replace her. It’s not possible. We have history. She is one of a kind. She’s at 108,000 miles to date. Each time someone asks me, “What truck is next for you?” I have no answer. I can’t even imagine. She completes me. You get me?  There’s only one other truck that has ever caught my eye as candy. It’s a cousin of hers. The Tundra. “This truck means business.” Yeh, same chassis. Same crazy performance. Same ferocious ability. I just may put my Stetson on and go for a ride in a jacked-up red one with a long bed. Not a replacement…but a new kind of animal.

Thanks again for visiting! I’m so glad you did! You can subscribe to be notified when I blog below by clicking, follow me on Twitter @GatorgirlPress or Twitter @Diningduchess, follow me on Facebook @RandiAileenPress or Facebook@DiningDuchess. Or if you’d like to write me directly, my email is randi@52TO50.com.

 

52TO50…”I Laughed So Hard I…”

Hey! Welcome to 52 weeks until I’m 50 years old! Actually it’s now 51 weeks! If you are a newbie…scroll down to my original post and you will understand why I began this blog…If you are back for more…Yay! And Thank you!
This week’s blog is named “I Laughed So Hard I…” because it’s true! Do you ever laugh really hard with friends or alone? I laugh a lot. I tend to be my best audience. And I laugh hard. You know…when something is so ridiculous that you start to giggle and then it becomes larger…much larger. There’s a point when the laugh has no sound coming out. Your hands are smacking your thighs. Your body is moving back and forth in your chair.Tears are starting to fill your eyes and you are trying to make some sound but there’s nothing yet filling the air! And then it comes out! A snorting obnoxious sound that once it’s in the air, starts to make you laugh even harder! Now you are coughing and snorting! And voila! The whole thing begins over again! And of course, all the while we are crossing our legs, bending over, shifting in our seats, praying (I know you’ve been there)! Hoping we don’t wet our pants during all this laughter!
Yes, 51 to 50 is losing control of many things but my bladder…really? This early? I remember learning about the bladder in anatomy class at Florida. When empty, the bladder is about the size and shape of a pear. Yeh, no wonder! I can fill that fruit-sized baby quick. I’m not sure when I started losing control of my bladder. It’s another one of those things you start to realize you have no control of! But, I have given some serious thought on how I could deal with this. I considered the concept of coming up with a Depends Thong. Could help we early leakers because there’s no way I’m putting on a regular pair any time soon! I imagine the Depends Thong wouldn’t be sold at any Vickie’s Secret store.I would have to create my own store called Randi’s Drawers!
I’ve come to learn that this lack of bladder control is absurdly normal. Yup. Both sexes are doomed to need disposables at some point. So, consider purchasing stock in those companies. Might be a good long ride. People are living and laughing a lot longer!
Oh…and by the way, if you want to try to stop wetting your pants…which I am sure won’t work for me as I don’t plan on following any of the bullets. I live on the edge! Here are some things that may help you:
  • Don’t cough or laugh (I made this up because I needed a laugh!)
  • Go to the bathroom regularly. Consider urinating on a regular schedule, such as every hour. Slowly, extend the amount of time between your bathroom trips.(Are they for real? Like we have the time for this!)
  • Maintain a healthy weight. (I get this but I’m a food writer…I like to eat!)
  • Don’t smoke.  (Not preaching here…do whatever you want…We need a few vices at almost 50!)
  • Do Kegel exercises. (OK…I may try this one…if I can remember …and I hope I don’t get caught!)

Thanks again for visiting! I’m so glad you did! You can subscribe to be notified when I blog below by clicking, follow me on Twitter @GatorgirlPress or @diningduchess, follow me on Facebook @RandiAileenPress or if you’d like to write me directly, my email is randi@52TO50.com.