Blue eyes becoming extinct!

If you have blue eyes, you better start procreating with others of your kind before it’s too late. According to an article in the NY Times in 2006 (what the hell year is it anyway?), it states from U.S. Census Bureau, that blue eyes have now become increasingly rare among American children.  It goes on to say that due to “immigration patterns, intermarriage, and genetics, all play a part in their steady decline.” The 2002 Loyola U study stated “about half of Americans born at the turn of the 20th century had blue eyes… by mid-century that number had dropped to a third” i.e. as of 2015, only 16.6% of American have blue eyes, and sounds like this number will be dropping rapidly.

See? Statistics don’t lie – jump on that fancy cell phone and start pawing through your little black book, make some booty calls, and explain the devastating future that lies ahead for your kind. That should be a sure fire way to get you a hooked up.

Blue eyes no lie: Goose

An American heritage and genetic line that lost its blue eyes?! Disastrous!!

 

 

Cold Sweat by Ezra Dyer

Brrr. Feel the chill? Winter is on its way. But don’t worry: There are tons of fun ways to enjoy the season and have a blast despite the sun being a cold dead orb that barely seems to struggle above the horizon before the wizened claw of frigid darkness once again tightens its bony grip upon the land. So don’t just huddle inside drinking cold Ruski vodka and eating your vitamin D pills—get out there and have a great time with these outdoor ideas that’ll turn your life into a winter fun-derland!

Snowshoeing. Snowshoeing is magical. Instead of laboriously slogging through deep powder, punching down and dragging your boots back to the surface with each punishing step, snowshoes allow you to glide gracefully across the surface. Oh, I’m sorry—those are cross-country skis. Snowshoes are giant baskets you strap to your feet, and wearing them is considered a sign of hypothermia-induced mental impairment. Snowshoeing is like trying to use an elliptical machine with both feet jammed into trash cans, or dancing a mambo in Satan’s clogs. It’s said that the Inuit have 100 words for snow and not one word for why anyone would wear snowshoes.

Sledding. In fifth grade, there was an eighth-grader who was kicking the little kids down the sledding hill before they could reach the top. So, as I climbed up near his boots, I reached out and wrapped him up, toppling him all the way down the hill and filling the pockets of his Jordaches with snow. He responded by giving me a wedgie hard enough to rip my underwear. So you’ve got to be really careful when you’re sledding.

Skiing. Oftentimes the temperature in Boston will sink into the teens or lower. You know what that means: time to go north and seek higher elevation. When you get to the mountain, you’ll park in Lot 15, which is that many miles from the base lodge. Then you’ll carry your $2,000 worth of gear to the lodge, where everyone removes their normal shoes and hides them under a cafeteria table. You put on your ski boots, which require you to walk like you have a loaded diaper, then realize that you have to go to the bathroom, which is down six flights of stairs. By the time you clomp there and back, it’s lunchtime. After lunch, you decide to head to the summit, which is easily accessible from the base lodge. All you do is take the T-bar to the top of Silly Goose, then ski down to the Rabid Moose quad and take it back up to Head Wound Gully. You ski that down to the Chairway to Hell low-speed triple, and then from there it’s back down Certain Dismemberment, where you traverse over to the gondola. There, a guy named Xander who’s just taking a year off to figure things out will herd you and five strangers into a small box, where you’ll spend the next 10 minutes avoiding eye contact and praying nobody farts. When the gondola doors reopen, you’ll find yourself watching the sunset from the majesty of the mid-mountain lodge. So you ski back down to the base lodge, which takes 30 seconds, and get into some après-ski, which involves frostbitten people with reconstructed knees getting drunk to Dave Matthews Band covers while wearing winter hats indoors. It might all sound like a lot, but you can learn to be a competent skier even if you start at an advanced age, by which I mean no later than 6.

Ice skating. Winter just isn’t winter without a deep bone bruise, so why not go for the coccyx?

Ice fishing. Ice fishing is when you cut a hole in the ice and then build a six-bedroom house around it, complete with NFL Sunday Ticket in the game room and a two-car garage. One night, during a dinner party, the caterer offers a heavy passed hors d’oeuvre—some kind of beef with chevre thing, really good—and your friend Jeff takes a step back and puts his foot right down through the fishing hole, which is next to the half-bath off the kitchen, and you’re like, “Hey Jeff, careful buddy! We’re fishing.” Then the next week the ice melts and everyone is rescued by hovercraft.

Building a snowman. Building a snowman is a playful way to tell Mother Nature that a little bit of sticky precipitation won’t stop you from fashioning pagan idols. Traditional snowmen have lumps of coal for their eyes and mouth, but you should celebrate carbon-neutral energy by using chunks of uranium. The fun thing about making a snowman is that the rolling snowballs pick up anything that was on the ground, making for all sorts of neat surprises. Say, did you clean up after your dog before it snowed, or does Mr. Shivers have a funny-looking pipe in his mouth? No and yes! Don’t worry too much about getting him perfect, because he’s just going to melt. Probably no later than St. Patrick’s Day.

Cold Sweat

Here are some cool ideas for soaking up the sub-zero weather.

http://www.improper.com/life-style/cold-sweat/

I cannot for the life of me figure out how to share the actual page on Improper Bostonian so I copied and pasted giving full credit to Ezra Dyer. This article had me laughing so hard at 6:30 am with lack of coffee in my system. Why is it so funny to me? Because certain ideas resonate so strongly. Thank you Ezra!

 

Fab-u-lous at 50!

its-a-birthday

The age of 50 may not seem ancient to all, but as my birthday to turn the big 5-0 was just last week, it feels ancient. It is a new decade. I am no longer in that 40-49 bracket (gasp!). Waking up in the morning creates the sounds of new pops, creaks, and snaps (and ouchies)…

I am trying to make the best of it, comes to terms with it, and thankfully Goose threw me a birthday party to remind me, things are not all that bad…maybe I am not as old, decrepit, and ancient as I tend to think. She rented an enormous house-6 bedrooms, 3 bath, and a third floor ballroom!! (courtesy of my Pop wish he could have attended…), I was surrounded by amazing friends (who drove upwards of two hrs to celebrate with me), laughs all weekend long (ever played the game “cards against humanity? say no more), won $$ at roulette (yes!) and danced the night away (no hokey-pokey here). I am not sure if it gets any better than that.

victoria-me

What would I do without my Goose? An amazing young woman who goes above and beyond for those she loves. I would be lost without her.

cheers!

cheers!

Cheers to another year! Thanks Mom – wish you were here – you would have shown the gang a few moves, at the expense of throwing out a hip! God Bless you!

Better than coffee to wake you up-and cheaper

If this doesn’t either (1) wake your ass up any time you are sleepy or (2) keep you from falling asleep due to nightmares = you are in a coma.

Sweet dreams my naïve readers, for this is what lives under your bed…..

wake your ass up

wake your ass up

Mothers come in all shapes, sizes, and species

familyouting

Come near my babies and get bitten! Try me you little brat! Where the hell are YOUR parents!?

Another adventurous outing for Goose and me – to the Zoo! Not just any zoo mind you, the one we would visit year after year when she was growing up (by now we should get a freebie); Roger Williams Zoo in Providence RI.

Whenever we get together we narrate the situation between us and then laugh our butts off.

I am waiting for my audience

I am waiting for my audience

showoff1

It’s about time humans! NOW I can show off!

We have always loved it there for it size, variety of species from around the world, cleanliness, and allowing families and children of all backgrounds to visit by keeping the price very affordable.

In the past the zoo seemed to grow just a little every year adding more exhibits and upgrading those that were already there. The petting zoo is now a walk-in type where children can pet, feed and groom the mini goats. Walk through Africa, South America, and different parts of Asia.  We even took advantage of the few volunteer booths that informed us of elephant poop, their teeth and how they grow and the anteater’s claws and snout – sometimes the little things are so interesting!

I have to be honest, we originally went to the booth because the women behind the tables were alone and looked as though they thought no one was interested in what they had to say. Well, we made sure to bring them some ‘business’ staying and asking questions until other visitors saw there was something going on, and well, our job was done.

flossingtime

Flossing time

lunchtime

What the hell is grass doing in the air??

Victoria's Hungry

FEED ME

 Always an adventure, always a great time, always enjoying our time together as mother/daughter, best friends, and partners-in-crime.

The 7 Wine-Drinking Rules of Middle-Aged Women

Middle-aged women, take comfort that you are not alone. Stop the fibbing and embrace the wine!

Stuff my dog taught me

imagesIf you lined up all the middle-aged women who drink one 5-ounce glass of wine each day “for health benefits” do you know what you would have? A really long line up of fibbers!

Middle-aged women drink wine like babies breastfeed – often and enthusiastically.

As with most things in Middle-Aged-Woman World, there are rules that must be followed when it comes to the drinking of the wine. These rules are akin to the regulations for tax deductions. If you want to make the most of the situation you need to know both the laws and the various interpretations and exemptions.

If you are new to Middle-Aged Woman World, let me start by saying “Welcome”. And allow me to begin your education by recommending that you have a Women-Only Get-Together to celebrate the birthday, gray hair, or forehead wrinkle that signified your entrance to the group.

At the Women-Only Get-Together…

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Honk, Beep, Meep and the Like

honk

I am a honking kind of girl; I give my car horn a workout daily. I want to be sure it will be in top condition should an ‘emergency’ ever arise. If I am not supposed to use it, why issue one in every vehicle, right?

Some people frown on honking as it brings attention to them, but really, isn’t that the point?

I give a honk if I am waving you through in front of me and it takes more than three of my hand waves to get your butt in gear. I am trying to be gracious and now you have made my arm ache… go already!

I give a honk if I have to wait more than 8 seconds at a green light and you are hopelessly staring at the light as if expecting a personal invitation be handed to you that it is safe to continue on your mind-numbing journey of life.

If you let me pass in front of you, I give the hand wave of thanks and a quick honk just to be sure you know I recognize your generosity. In these parts, if you don’t give the hand-wave-of-thanks you get the WTF buddy?!! Geeze you are welcome!! And then we take our anger out on the next innocent driver…so do society a solid and just give a quick wave of thanks. Even a half hand wave is acceptable.

If I see geese, turkey, or deer (pretty much any animal) look precariously from the side of the road as if they want to cross to see what is on the other side of the road, they get the honk to warn them to “back up buddy it is not safe, try again later”

Most importantly you will most definitely…without a doubt…get a honk, if, as in this past weekend for example, you are pulling out of the parking garage, stop and park just on the other side of the wooden arm, have everyone in the vehicle get out and change seats (no it was not one of those juvenile fire drills) and then have a discussion at the driver’s door about how the day was. People, there is a line forming behind you and by the looks of it, you are incapable of driving and talking at the same time, otherwise why would you be standing next to the vehicle? HONK!!

And then have the 20-something garage attendant school me on not using my horn because it was not an emergency!!? Oh no you di-int!! Since when does it have to be an emergency to use the horn? He obviously lives in a small town where honking is viewed as a nuisance not the vehicle’s voice. I didn’t give the long foghorn blast, just a quick honk to state; hurry it up ladies we are not getting any younger here and the world does not revolve around YOU.

Are YOU a honk, meep, beep type of person or the recipient of my honking??