Stories About Still a Looker

March Muddles

Sleep, Spending and Scents

March Muddles

It’s mid-March, and I’m in the middle of multiple muddles … all of which strangely begin with the letter “S” … sleep, spending, and scents.

Multiple Muddles No. 1: Spending

First, I completed my monthlong No Personal Spending pledge. Hooray and hurrah! I did it. More precisely, I didn’t do it.

I make not one single impulse purchase during the entire month! No red Keds, no silly snow cone-scented(!) earrings, and no new dreamy, buttery soft sheets in buttery yellow.

It was surprisingly difficult to keep my wallet in my pants (a-hum) and my finger off the “buy now” online purchase button, but I succeeded. It was a fascinating exercise in self-control, one shop-aholic me sorely needed.

For a long time, as in years, I’ve been telling myself that I don’t do that much impulse shopping, that I don’t spend that much time online shopping, and that I don’t spend that much on frivolous little purchases, but I have to tell you that the end-of-the-month credit card statement tells a different tale.

You can read about my No Personal Spending Pledge journey here.

March Muddles Number 2: Sleep

I’m on Week 4 of my Inspire-d sleep apnea device journey. As regular readers of this blog may recall, I have sleep apnea big time. Yet, I cannot tolerate wearing that infernal CPAP mask. So, on December 8, I had the Inspire sleep apnea device surgically implanted. The device stimulates the tongue muscle during sleep, which prevents it from blocking the airway.

Six weeks after the surgery, I was “turned on.” More precisely, the device was turned on. Each week, I increase the strength … the frequency … (the whatever) of the tongue-darting implant does. (Aren’t I the tech-savvy one?)

Inspire “seems” to be helping. It’s too early for me to offer you a full-throated (full-tongued?) endorsement, but I do seem to be sleeping a little longer and a bit better. I’m not bouncing around, wrapped in full-on energy and joy, but I’ve got a grip on my over-eating, one of my big bad “tells” for being tired. And also, in the interest of embarrassing but full disclosure, Handsome Hubby, who alleges I snore (I hotly deny this, of course), says I am sleeping/breathing quietly, which is good for both of us.

So, fingers crossed, maybe this sleep apnea device will offer sleep salvation!

March Muddles Number 3: Sneezing

For some, Spring heralds the start of allergy season. For others, like me, the entire year is a sneeze/itch-a-thon.

One of my most tedious allergies is to fragrances. It’s a shame. I used to love perfume, but for decades, I have become increasingly sensitive to smells. It’s now so bad that I get instantaneous headaches when I walk through makeup counters in department stores.

Worse yet, if I sit next to someone in a theater or a lecture who’s wearing perfume, I start itching, and my head starts pounding. Just this month, that’s happened twice! Both times we had to change seats.

So, ladies — and gentlemen — please be sensitive to scent sensitivities. If you’re going to attend an event where you’ll be in proximity to others, please consider the possibility of allergies. I know it’s a bummer to forgo perfume if you love it.

My late mother was a perfume queen. I cannot imagine how she would have felt if I had to tell her to skip the spritz! But still, I know she would have been kind.

Anyway, that’s my story — at least so far this month. Gosh, I really am Muddling through Middle Age these days!

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You Don’t Look Your Age

Is That Really a Compliment?

Look your age

People often say I don’t look my age. They mean it as a compliment, and I take it as such, but lately I’ve been wondering. Is it really a compliment, and why does hearing it make me so happy? Read more

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Don’t Ask Me. I Won’t/Can’t Dance

A Two-Footed Lament

I Won't/Can't Dance

It’s the start of Week Four after (double) foot surgery and while the pain is finally starting to subside, definitely don’t ask me. I won’t/can’t dance.

“Double foot surgery?” you query, wondering rightly whether I have a screw (or a shoelace) loose. Read more

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Straws Cause Wrinkles?

Bad News for Sippers

Straws cause wrinkles

I thought I was a super sipper when I switched from plastic to paper straws. Hooray for the environment. Hooray for me. But now, alas, there’s more bad news for sippers. Straws may cause wrinkles. Read more

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Call Me Plastic Surgery Curious

Pondering a Facelift

Plastic Surgery

When I was young, I sniffed and sneered at the idea of plastic surgery. Now that I’ve reached what is politely called “a certain age,” I’m not so sure. At 69, my jowls have headed south, and my neck waddle rivals a turkey. As a result, I’ve become plastic surgery curious. Very curious. Read more

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Dare to Go Bare

The Golden Age of Naked Dressing

Dare to go bare

Naked dressing. It seems to be a contradiction in terms. Yet, from the catwalks of Milan to the Oscars and the Met Gala, all the gorgeous gals are doing it and I say it’s high time we fleshy middle-aged muddlers jump on the fashion bandwagon and dare to go (nearly) bare! Read more

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Sink or Swim?

Will Excuses or Willpower Win the Day?

Sink or Swim

I’ve got a nasty case of the wintertime blues. It’s leaving me feeling old, fragile, and unfit. But I’m a fighter, a take-charge kind of woman. So, I’m not down for the count. Now, in my latest attempt to win the Battle of Old Age, I’m taking drastic new steps — more precisely new laps. Will I sink or swim? That is today’s question. Read more

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Odd Odds and Ends

Produce Stickers, Matching Manicures, Fat Bear Week

odd odds and ends

It’s mid-October. Time for my seasonal house and office cleaning. That includes a long overdue review of my overflowing e-folder of pending story ideas. As usual, it’s chock full of juicy tidbits that didn’t quite make it to full-blown stories but are too “delicious” to discard without sharing. So, without further delay, here’s a sampling of odd odds and ends. Read more

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I Ain’t Old. Just Ask Methuselah

I'm Still Muddling through Middle Age

I Ain't Old. Just Ask Methuselah

You’re as old as you feel. Well, today I feel as old as Methuselah. And “for the record,” Methuselah was 969.

Now, I mention “old” man Methuselah not to kvetch about my aching back, bones, and feet but to make a point about aging, more specifically, definitions of age. How old is “old?” And when does middle-age end? Read more

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It’s My Birthday and I’ll Ramble If I Want To!

Assorted Thoughts on my B-day

It's My Birthday and I'll Ramble If I Want To

It’s my 68th birthday. I’m not having a party, but I do have a few random thoughts on texting, cartoons, and not-so-complimentary compliments. Read more

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