Out of touch with every generation. I win at irrelevancy.

It's Monday, and I've got a lot on my mind, and none of it coherent.  Enjoy.

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 I generally don't think about getting older.

Sure, there was that moment when I found out I needed bifocals [BI-FUCKING-FOCALS!], and there's my tendency to fall asleep at around 9:30pm and my distaste for the clothing that kids these days are wearing.  But generally, I move along, thinking that while my body isn't what it used to be, I could totally stay out all night drinking and dancing and picking up random guys.  I mean, in theory.  I wouldn't pick up random guys anymore, what with being married.  Maybe a specific guy, one selected during those endless negotiations married couples have about who would you have sex with if it was a freebie or if I died, but don't go getting any ideas?  Not that we've had those discussions, nor have we set out a list.  Not a permanent one, anyway. 

So, to sum up, still think I'm young and hip.

And then, lately, I get a daily reminder that I'm getting older.

It's this:  I cannot read blogs/websites/etc. that are white letters on dark backgrounds.  Seriously.  I can't.  I get very dizzy and eye-strainy while trying.  So if that's your blog, I'm sorry.  It's going to be read in my feeder and not on your site.

Now get off my lawn.

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Let's just say, hypothetically, that one day it's 55 degrees, and the next it jumps to 82 degrees and the day after it's supposed to be 55 again.  Does it make me someone a bad person if I someone turns the AC on the day it's 82 degrees?  Does the fact that being really hot makes me someone insanely cranky mitigate that answer at all?  What about if I someone generally does not turn the heat on until it's been really cold for a few weeks, in order to balance stuff out?

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The girl is going to Faraway Boarding School.  Getting there, seeing it, seeing her there - it was as if everything fell into place and my only hesitation was that I would miss her.  And I don't want to be a selfish parent - I mean, I AM, don't get me wrong, but I don't WANT to be.

So it's decided.  She's going.  She's thrilled.  I'm happy.  The husband's happy.  The grandparents are . . . dealing with it.

And you all made freaking out about it so much easier to deal with.  I can't believe how much people will help you when you need it.  It's wonderful.

O.k., enough of the bullshit happy happiness.  I'm getting a little sick of myself.

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I realized this past weekend that I have not seen a number of what would be considered seminal 80s movies, such as Karate Kid, Top Gun, Caddyshack and Dirty Dancing. I've seen bits of each of these movies, except Top Gun - I don't think I've seen any of that. 

I realized this at my parents' house, where they were watching Dirty Dancing.  I mean, I get the premise of these movies, because they're in the zeitgeist, but as to actual plot points? Nothing.  Like, did you know that Lenny Briscoe and Emily Gilmore are the parents in Dirty Dancing? I had no idea. And it really weirded me out to see them as a couple.  A NY cop and a DAR member together? So wrong.

Ultimately, I think I'm o.k. with being out of that loop.  I'll stick with my John Hughes & other Brat Pack movies.  They're plenty, AND I get to check out Andrew McCarthy, pre-Weekend at Bernies [which, in full disclosure, I have seen.  Several times.  And yes, I've seen the second one, too.].

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I have finally, finally, FINALLY sent off Poppy's super-fantastic cross stitch grand prize.  Here's the finished product:

So elegant, right?

I know it took forever to get it together and mail, but I plead illness and anxiety about the girl and travel and I had to find the perfect frame and . . . well, sometimes I'm just lame.

BUT! It's off to the deserving winner, who I hope will cherish it through the ages.  Or at least not tell me when she sells it at a garage sale.

Next on my agenda is creating my own patterns and setting up an Etsy store.  I WILL RULE THE WORLD, ONE CROSS STITCH AT A TIME!

How was your weekend?