Happy Thanksgiving all. Unlike you, I am not full of turkey and therefore the tryptophan (the hormone in turkey that makes you want to sew your ass to the sofa and doze after supper) is clearly not working since it's 1:30 in the morning. A writer's favorite time. Also insomniacs, Big Bang Geeks, shift workers and people whose meds haven't kicked in for the night. Pick one.
Since I am WH tonight (without husband - who is somewhere doing something) I am naturally out of the whole sleep rhythm thing. Also I cooked a bird last weekend and am still siphoning off the last of the carcass dregs so the sleepy drug stuff it probably already gone. Casserole today. Turkey stroganoff in the near future.
Yesterday - the yesterday that occurred prior to midnight - a good friend of ours turned 70. He had a little party which required a cake from yours truly. My third in the last thirty days. I've warned everyone that cake season is officially over now until December - or at least until I can find a job that pays enough to replenish my baking supply cupboard. We were invited over for a little get together starting at 11 a.m. Wow - wine before lunch. Grape juice with a kick. A few party munchies - cold cut cubes, cheeses, crackers, dip - the usual carbs and this awesome black forest cake which was painstakingly put together over two days. All this before lunch - made me I was on one of my favorite all inclusives except there was no beach or pool. Also no too-gorgeous-to-be-straight guys in tighties running around with a volleyball snuggling their hips. Just good company, good food and a lot of razzing and hazing going on about the age of the Septuagenarian.
I still doubt I'll ever get there. My nerves are just a little too fragile. Ditto my ego. Rinse and repeat on the RRSP. I was just wound waaay too tight for 50. I'll still be feeling the feedback when I hit 60. Seventy isn't even on my radar. Yet for all that, there are still a lot of things I'd like to be doing if/when I hit the big 7-0. Sex for one thing. A friend of mine told me a story about how her mother, then in her late 70's and settling into a nursing home after a broken hip, met a man she wanted to have a relationship with. My friend picked her mom up to take her to a doctor's appointment and accidentally left the mail key sitting on the passenger seat. Mom gets in and plants herself on the seat. Next thing you know, Jill gets a key tossed at her by a very frazzled mom who points to her bottom with a tarty, "have a care! I've only just started using it again." Things you really don't want to hear from your mom!
I'd like to still be skiing. I'll probably be sporting the latest version of TOH's grow-your-own-knee-replacements from a busted fingernail I mailed in from a dollar store genetic test kit. Same goes for the new pelvis and lower spinal plastic fusion. I'm thinking while I'm under for surgery, I'll get the works with some face paste and an anti-gravity, droop-proof boob reconstruction. A tummy tuck and a little lipo and I'll be good to go. And first I'll go to my bank to finance it all and then to my lawyers if those boobs are just a millimeter off centre and then I'll sue the bastards. Come to think of it, 70 will give me something to look forward to. I'll still be writing. And of coarse, the dog will have replaced the long ago displaced husband (private joke).
So, after having considered the things I get to look forward to I've decided it's worth giving thanks after all. And if worse comes to worse, I know I'll still have my mom to accompany me on a little travelling adventure. OTOH - mums will be close to 90 so maybe having her pimp out our beach umbrella might not be the best idea. I can't see her luring in any prospects with GenXXXiPod featuring Tony Bennett duets numero 40. Somehow the cryogenically frozen crooner with electrical throat stimulations croaking next to the transplanted head of Lady Gaga to Madonna's preserved body isn't doing much to set the mood. Hate to leave y'all with that site floating around on top of the gravy but I'm done for the night. AND...I get to sleep in the cushy middle of the bed all by my only. No snoring, no farting, no loud flushing of toilets.
...and for this, I am truly Thankful!
No comments:
Post a Comment