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.

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.

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.

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.