Thank you to everyone who sent me gifts and cards for my 59th birthday. Oh, you didn’t know about it? Well, no one really did, but don’t worry. I have decided I am going to stay 59 the rest of my life. I’ve picked the age I want to be, and I’m not going to budge! Next year I will write a column a few weeks in advance reminding you of my 59th birthday. At some point, as my husband continues to age and I don’t, I will become his trophy wife. Just think, when Carey turns 89 and I am still 59, people will wonder, “How the heck did that guy manage to snag a babe like her?” (Fine, call me delusional.) No matter my age, birthdays make me contemplative. I am always thinking about the next thing I should be doing to make an imprint on the world. Here’s the good news: I’m in the Florida Keys, so I am easily distracted. My contemplation usually lasts about 10 minutes before I start thinking about something else. Plus, I hired a coach (not Mike Matheny) to help me figure out my professional life. Here is what is on my mind:
Why can’t I take a decent picture? I know I have a resting bitch face, but I have spent hours trying to learn how to smile in pictures. Seriously. Still, when I do, I look like the Joker from Batman. I have done all the tricks: pretending to cough, putting my tongue on the roof of my mouth, tilting my head up, tilting my head down. Nothing works. (Oh, and why do my arms look like sausages? I know they aren’t. I don’t have to have clothes specially made to encase my arms. When I work out at the gym, they look like everyone else’s.) And it’s not just me. My husband has the same problem. We both look like people who are in constant pain, or perhaps serial killers. Any suggestions are appreciated and will be tried out.
Why do people get tattoos on their calves? If you are a regular reader, you know I like tattoos. I have one. For whatever reason, lots of people in the Keys have them on their calves, which seems like an odd place. I like to look at mine. It is small, but sometimes, especially when I’m getting my nails done, I get asked about it. But you can’t see a tattoo on your calf unless you contort your leg, and people won’t notice it until you’re leaving, far too late to ask you what it means or why you got it. Tidying up can be addictive. Marie Kondo has a book and a Netflix series, Tidying Up with Marie Kondo, that encourage you to clean out the clutter in your life. If an item doesn’t spark joy, pitch it. The show also reveals a very specific way to fold your clothes. Well, as a lover of the series Hoarders, I felt it would be a betrayal to watch the new series, so I looked online to see how things should be folded. Amazing. Everything looks so neat and orderly in perfect little squares. Here’s the problem, though. After you wash your clothes, you have to remember to fold them in the perfect little squares and not just throw them on top of the stack or, well, no more sparks of joy. It is a commitment, like a marriage. It is up to you if you want to make it or just go ahead with the annulment. Wishing you sparks of joy every day!
Contact Patty at phannum@townandstyle.com.
