Twenty Four At Heart

Alive and Frustrated

I'm just checking in to let you know I didn't die (yet).

My new laptop arrived early on Monday.  (I was not expecting it to arrive until the end of the day on Thursday.)

Yay!

What great customer service!

I turned it on and it asked if I wanted "Migration Assistant" to move everything from my old computer to the new one.

"Apple is SO fantastic!" I thought as I told my new laptop YES.

Those Apple people are damn clever!

Press ONE button and everything from the old computer goes to the new computer.

Magical!

But?

But, they should have warned me Migration Assistant would run for DAYS making both my new, and OLD, computer inoperable until it's done.  (I'm on Day #2 right now ... how many days will it take??)

And yes, there is a better way.

If I had known what a huge PROCESS this whole migration was, I would have bought a firewire and I could have done it in a fraction of the time.  Instead, Migration Assistant is working wirelessly on my crappy home Internet system and it could not be any slooooooower.

I stopped into the Apple store and asked them if it's normal for it to take so long.  The answer? 

Well, yes, if you're stupid enough to attempt it wirelessly.

Ahem ... said The Blonde Woman.

(Ok, ok, they might not have said stupid - but!)

In any case, I borrowed a computer just so I could let you know what's going on and why I've been unusually quiet.

Tomorrow, WEDNESDAY, is my birthday!

I'm turning Twenty Four (at Heart) - again!!

All I want for my birthday is Migration Assistant to finish (successfully) and allow me to use my new laptop.

I'll be back as soon as I have a working computer - !!

© Twenty Four At Heart

Boo!

Happy Halloween!

We had a beautiful weekend here.  It hit 90F/32.2C at my house yesterday.

Laguna Beach.

I tried to take a scary self-portrait and this is what I came up with:

By the way, do any of you know how to permanently (non-surgically) get rid of laugh lines?

Or, as they're better known, big giant CREVICES in your face?

Yes?

No?

Aging is such a bitch!

We've had some Big Stuff going on in our lives over here at the Twenty Four household, but I can't blog about any of it yet.  It's giving me writer's block.  There are so many things I CAN blog about, but instead I stare at my computer screen and think ... but I can't write about that.

And then, I stare at the screen some more.

I made goulash for dinner last night.

I have no idea why I just told you that, but I'm curious if any of you have ever made goulash?  It's fun just to say the word over and over ...  goooo - losh!

I'm off my temporary, emergency, steroids.

Yay!

(Except ... hello Return Of Pain.)

Some of you wrote and asked me about the Fentanyl Patches I was prescribed.  Long story short, I'm not using them right now.  They made me itch like crazy and also want to barf.  I've tried them three times now and I think I'm going to pass.  I see Dr. Painless next week, and I imagine he'll be unhappy about this news.

(Um, he may read about it here before I tell him - !)

Even more of you asked if I'm using medicinal marijuana ....

I do use it sometimes.  And yes, it helps but it isn't a cure-all either.  I also don't feel like I can get high and go out running errands, driving all over Orange County.  When I do use it, it's generally at night when I know I can just hangout for the evening.  (It doesn't happen very often because my life is hectic.)

My new laptop is scheduled to be delivered from China sometime on Thursday.  It's an Apple ... a MacBook Pro to be exact.  I wanted it with extra RAM right from the get-go (for all my gigantic RAW photo files) so I had to order it online instead of buying one in the store.  Apparently, when you order a "custom" laptop it gets shipped from China.

I'm not at all excited about getting a new computer.  I suppose I should be, but I'm not.  I'm too frustrated with my current one.  I'm sure I'll be thrilled when it arrives though, because then I can stop threatening to throw my old one against a wall.  (I also want to stomp on it repeatedly, but so far I've displayed excellent self control.)

Did you know I have trouble thinking without a laptop?

Some people can't think without a pen in their hand ...

I can't think without a functioning laptop.

I'm trying though - !!

Three more days until I'll be able to think again ....

© Twenty Four At Heart

Selfie Sunday

Every two weeks, Google Plus has "Selfie Sunday."  Participating photographers post a self portrait.  People are quite elaborate, setting up tripods, time release cables, etc. all in an effort to take their own photo.

I could have done that, and maybe I will next time -

But today, I took a self portrait the (sort of) easy way.

Self portrait - Suzanne Haggerty

© Twenty Four At Heart

Do You Believe in Fate, Destiny ... Magic?

Do you believe things always work out for the best?

Do you believe in fate?

In destiny?

Karma?

Magic?

I realize it's easy and reassuring to say, "Things will work out the way they were meant to be."

But is it true? 

When I was young, I believed all the pieces of life fit together in a gigantic puzzle just the way they were meant to.

Now ...?

Not so much.

Bad shit happens.

Gray is the predominant color where black and white used to rule.

Good people frequently suffer.

Bad people often rise to the top.

Not always, of course - but more often than I used to believe.

Is it fate I married my husband?

Whatever happened to Mr. Electric whom I dated just prior to meeting Briefcase?

(And no, he's not on Facebook!) 

Did he become the lousy husband I feared he'd be?

Or someone's Knight in Shining Armor?

Is it fair, or right, when someone with little (or no) talent becomes a success because they've got the "right" connections?

What about the uber-talented person who is never discovered?

And I mean, never ....

Dying without recognition, even posthumously.

What is all that talent about, if not to be shared?

Is it destiny my computer crashed AND my camera memory card went bad in the same week?  (Okay, this might not be a life-shattering situation, but really??)

What happened to the man who drove recklessly through a stop sign and irrevocably changed my life?

Has his life gone forward perfectly, with no thought for the havoc he caused?

Do you ever think back to old lovers and/or old friends and wonder if they were in your life for a reason?

How can certain people have such a big impact, 

And then POOF!

Be gone, out of your life forever ....?

Is it all random chaos?

It's so easy to say people come into your life (and leave) for a reason - but that just might be the best line of bullshit ever.

OK, now it's your turn -

Fate, destiny, whatever you want to call it -

Do you believe in it?

© Twenty Four At Heart

School Memories

Do you remember your first day of school ever?

For me, it was kindergarten.  (There were no preschools in my, at-the-time, still rural community.)

I was four years old which was young for kindergarten, but I was deemed precocious and "ready." 

I remember my first day of kindergarten as vividly as if it just happened.  

I can even recall my teacher in the greatest of detail.  

Her name was Mrs. Riley.  

She had red (!) hair.  It was the first red hair I'd ever seen up close.  

It was so pretty!  

I can still remember the scent of her perfume when she hugged me.

I will never forget my mom walking me into the classroom on my very first day, and then - walking away.

I remember it all, perfectly.

It's that time of year.

Time for books, and pencils, and the smell of new erasers.  

The memories of the first day of school, whatever the grade, will never go away.  The excitement, the nervousness, the fear and yes - even the joy.

Joy?

Yes, I'm a nerd. 

Learning has always been a joy.

School?

Well, school wasn't always filled with good memories.

By third grade, I was deemed "gifted" in a school system with inadequate means to deal with its brightest students.  I was bored, academically, on a regular basis.  By my teen years, I frequently used my "smarts" to manipulate the school system.  I was quite proud of it at the time.  

I never could relate to most girls my age, and they couldn't relate to me.

I found their preoccupation with "girly" things inane.

I still do.

They found me "different."

They still do.

With naturally light blond hair, early sprouting DD boobs, and intelligence too - 

I was an immediate target for bullying by "the mean girls" in high school.

I remember, so many times -

Just wishing I could fit in even if it meant being a little more like them.

I'm no longer in school, but I continue on a quest for more knowledge.  

I seem to have an insatiable desire to learn more, to delve deeper.  

An expert at nothing, I consider myself a damn good "generalist."

(I'm fairly competent, but not great, at a lot of different things.)

Yes, I still remember my first day of kindergarten in the tiniest of details.

I wish someone had told me then,

It's the best thing in the world -

In fact,

Really - it's a badge of honor,

To be different.

© Twenty Four At Heart

Dermaplaning

Earlier this week, I experienced my first-ever dermaplaning facial.

I didn't know what a dermaplaning facial was, but I had a Groupon for one so I showed up at my appointed time.

In hindsight, it's probably a good thing I didn't know what I was getting myself into.

Another term for "dermaplaning" is blading.

So, um, yeah - a woman took a scalpel to my face,

But in the nicest possible way.

To be a tad more specific, a woman used a #10 sterile surgical blade to exfoliate my skin.

(Wouldn't a cheap drugstore facial scrub be so much easier?)

The blade was gently stroked over my face in a similar fashion as a man might shave.  

There was no cutting, no blood, and no recovery involved.

Dermaplaning removes a few weeks worth of outer dead skin cells by gently scraping them off.

Doesn't that sound sexy?

I have to admit, my skin has never felt smoother or softer than it does post-dermaplaning.  It's like having baby skin again.

Maybe I should become a dermaplaning poster blogger-face?

Is there such a thing?

A dermaplaning facial also removes any "peach fuzz" you might have on your face, although de-fuzzing isn't the primary purpose of dermaplaning.  A lot of women start getting fuzzy once they hit their mid-thirties and beyond.  (Some of us are even lucky enough to have a random pubic hair grow out of our face!)

No kidding, I don't have a single whisker on my face right now.  Sad, isn't it?  How will my friends and family recognize me?

I don't get facials on a regular basis, and I wouldn't have done this one - if not for the Groupon offer. 

Would I do it again?

I would love to!  

Dermaplaning was relatively quick, painless, and it made my skin look great.

I've heard dermaplaning facials aren't overly expensive in other cities.  Of course, in Orange County everything is expensive.  It would cost me $150 to return to the same facility, without the discounted price, and get the same service again.

Have I mentioned I have two kids in college right now?

I won't be getting $150 facials anytime soon.

But, if you can afford to get dermaplaning facials regularly I highly recommend them.

It really did make a remarkable difference in my skin.

© Twenty Four At Heart

The Correct Way to Buy a Bra

Yesterday, I stepped on my own nipple as I got out of the car.

I knew, immediately, it was time to purchase a new bra.

By the way, stepping on your own nipple is extremely painful.

(Especially when you have hyper-sensitive, bionic, nipples like I do.)

As some of you may recall, I had breast reduction surgery at the urging of my orthopedic surgeon a couple years ago.  He felt my ginormous boobs size DD breasts were making things worse on my disabled arm/shoulder.  I bought all new bras at the time, but I guess bras aren't made to last for a lifetime.

Ever since I had breast reduction surgery, my nipples have been very ... alert.

I've found Victoria's Secret BioFit bras work best for me.  (No, Victoria's Secret isn't sponsoring this post.  They know nothing about me, or my bionic nipples.)  I like the BioFit bras because in my size, a C, they don't add a lot of padding but they do cover up my attentive nipples.  They also have a nice, seamless shape for wear under t-shirts, etc.  

(I'm not saying this is the best bra for you, I just happen to think it's the best bra for me.)

I was actually on another errand yesterday, when the incident of accidentally tripping over my own nipple occurred.

I decided to make a quick pit-stop (tit-stop?) into the mall to make an emergency bra purchase.  (I often buy these same bras online, but I was close to the mall so went to the actual store.)

The problem was, I couldn't remember what my favorite bra was called.  I knew, however, I had purchased it at Victoria's Secret.

I walked into the store and responded to the cheery VS customer greeter with a confident hello.  Then I walked through the store and gazed at the stunning array of colors, sizes, and styles, of over the shoulder boulder holders.

My mind went blank.  I felt suddenly confused by the dazzling assortment of bras.

I stuck my hand down my shirt and tried to squish the padding to see if it was thick, thin, a semi-lift, or some other type of contraption.

That is exactly how the befuddled VS sales lady found me.

(Yes, right in the middle of the store with my hand in my own bra squeezing the bra this way and that way.)

She might have thought I was fondling myself because she seemed very taken aback.

What?

I can't be the first person to have their hand down their own shirt squishing around in their bra, can I?

"I can't remember the name of my bra," I said, in an attempt to explain what I was doing.

Then I added, "It has writing inside it though, and not much padding ... but enough padding so my nipples don't wave at everyone."

She laughed.

She also looked a little relieved.

(The crazy woman fondling herself in the middle of the store was not actually crazy.)

She quickly deduced I was looking for a BioFit bra and escorted me to the area of the store I needed.

"What size are you?" she asked.

"DD," I answered out of habit.  (I was a DD from age 11 until just two years ago.)

She looked at me appraisingly and frowned.

"Oh wait," I said suddenly.  "I'm not a DD.  I had them cut off and now I'm a C!"

I grinned, proud of myself for remembering my new smaller size.

She looked ... well, a little taken aback again.

"O-kaaaay?" she said hesitantly.

At this point, I realized she was going to be of no further help, whatsoever.

"I'm fine," I said.  "I just want to look at the pretty colors for a minute before I choose which one I want."

A few minutes later I picked out a nude colored bra to replace the one I was wearing and a shocking pink bra just for fun.

The pink bra is so pretty.

I smiled for the entire rest of the day just because I knew I had a bright pink, pretty, bra on.

My shopping mission was a success.

That, dear friends, is the correct way to buy a bra.

© Twenty Four At Heart

Can You See Me Now?

A woman named Darryle Pollack read one of her blog posts out loud at the conference last week.

I've met Darryle before, and the day after she spoke we spent about an hour together in deep discussion.

Darryle's post was about women becoming invisible in our society as they age.

I haven't been able to stop thinking about her words, or our conversation, since.  I'm a little younger than Darryle, but I'll be following in her footsteps in a blink of an eye.  (Yes, time does rush past faster than a speeding bullet ....)

Darryle is someone I admire and respect.  

She really got me thinking.

Let's back up for a minute, to a day earlier in the conference.

Readership numbers are something bloggers don't generally discuss with each other.  Most bloggers consider it rude, and guard their "numbers" as closely as they do their weight.

However, I've always considered myself a "small" blogger because ...

Well, because I'm not The Pioneer Woman or Dooce.

And by those standards, I AM a small blogger.

However,

In talking with several bloggers, I realized the readership numbers I think of as "small" for Twenty Four At Heart are actually pretty decent.  In addition, my readership exceeds that of many popular "mom" blogs.  A few blogs I think of as being famous actually have a much smaller audience than Twenty Four At Heart.

It was a very surprising revelation.

I'm not sharing this information to you to brag, or to pat myself on the back.  After all, it's you, not me, creating the page views.

Instead,

A question began nagging at me -

Why are they ("mom" bloggers with smaller audiences than I have) getting the vast majority of private invitations to brand parties, why are they getting so many more business opportunities, why are they considered the Important People to the brands and marketing people?

I decided to talk to a few of the marketing people in the expo hall, and ask them.

I was shocked when one of the brand/marketing experts told me they don't have "very reliable" tools for measuring the reach of any particular blog.  Yes, they have tools - but they realize those tools often give them very unreliable information.

Not being a "mommy blogger" apparently immediately takes me off everybody's radar.

But should it?

Am I, because I'm not a young mom blogger, invisible?

Invisible on the private party lists.

Invisible on the pr/marketing lists.

Invisible even to many of my blogging peers (who would not, I suppose, think to invite me along when they make plans because I'm OLDER).  

I mention this, because in blogging networking is often everything.  

If you aren't THERE, if you're never invited - you're missing out on amazing opportunities.

Marketing companies are targeting young moms with blogs.  I don't think it even occurs to many of them to take a look at people who are not blogging about their families and/or do not have kids to blog about in the first place.

Now, don't get me wrong -

I do get a lot of PR/Advertising pitches.

Most pitches I receive are on products/ideas related to baby/young kid products which, clearly, do not relate to me at this point in my life.  (My youngest of three children is now 16 years old.)  

Having a background in PR, I understand the logic behind wanting to attract young buyers and build a lifetime loyalty to your brand.  Nonetheless, two minutes of research would provide them with the information to realize my blog isn't the right forum for their baby/young kid products.  When I get these pitches, I know I was just part of a mass emailing campaign.

Alternately, if the pitches I receive aren't about young kid/family products they tend to be about arthritis/alzheimers/vaginal dryness.  These pitches come from marketers who have done enough research to realize I'm not "young."

I wish I were joking, but I'm not.

Many of the brands at last week's conference would be ideal for my audience, but I've never heard from them.

The advertising/pr agencies have serious flaws in their marketing strategies and they are missing out on huge opportunities.  Has it ever occurred to them to target women in their late thirties and up?

I'm not "old" and I'm not "young."

I do, however, have an audience of extremely intelligent and largely affluent readers.  In addition, my readers trust me because they know I tell it like I see it.

(There is absolutely no chance my integrity will ever be compromised by a brand.)

At my not young and not old age, I also have more discretionary income than I did when my three kids were young.

The "baby boomers" are a HUGE buying force, but are largely being ignored and/or misunderstood by marketing companies.

I'm not interested in products for the elderly because I'm not elderly.

Nor am I interested in products aimed at toddlers.

Do I like wine?

Do I like chocolate? 

Do I like yogurt?  

Do I like FOOD in general?  

Do I like to travel?

Do I have an interest in beauty products?

Do I have an interest in health products?

Do I like creature comforts?

Do I send greeting cards?

Do I use technology products?

Do I like photography equipment and other "hobby" products?

Do I like to cook and have an interest in kitchen products?

Do I clean my house/my teeth/my clothes?

Do I ever redecorate my house and have an interest in furnishings, etc?

Do I like activities such as exercise, parties, boat trips, and adventures of all sorts?

YES I DO.

I did not stop doing any of those things when I turned 40.

In fact, I have more time (as well as more discretionary income) to enjoy all of the above than I ever have before.

This is not a "sour grapes" post about BlogHer.  

I attended the conference; I had a great time.  

I was nonstop busy in San Diego with events and (open to everyone) parties, friends, and conversations with marketing folks.

But ....

I'm wondering -

Did anyone there really SEE me?

More importantly,

Can they see me now?

© Twenty Four At Heart

Romeo, Oh Romeo!

*  Oh look!  It's another repeat post.  I must be having a nice vacation.  I'll be seeing the "real" Romeo in the next few weeks so it seemed appropriate to share this post.  Enjoy!  *

I've fallen in love.  

Well, maybe it isn't really love - but who cares?

And before I tell you this story, I want you to know I can be a cougar in my own mind if I want to.  Especially after a week like this one.

During the hour before my surgery I was hanging out on a gurney in my sexy hospital gown, with my granny panties on, and my hair tucked into a too-hawt-to-handle hospital cap on my head.  After a night of no sleep, I was definitely looking my most awesome best.

A man in surgical scrubs approached me, looked me in the eyes with the sexiest green, smoky, bedroom eyes I've ever seen and said, "Hi.  I'm Romeo and I'll be the one turning you on."

"Promise?!" I laughed, unable to tear my eyes away from the gorgeous hunk of Italian man in front of me.

He blushed.

I sighed.

And no, his name isn't REALLY Romeo ... but it might as well be.  (And the above photo isn't really him either - he is SO much hotter!)

We all have our "types," right?  You know, a physical LOOK that makes our heart pitter patter and our mouths drool.

Romeo is IT for me.

Tall, dark, handsome ... with dark curls surrounding his rugged, sexy, face.  He has green, intense, eyes that seem to smolder with a glance.  He looks at ease with his nice build ... muscular, but not muscle-bound.

Romeo has lots and lots of sexiness wrapped up into one drool-worthy package.

Yum.

Never mind, Romeo is way too young for me - 

Romeo is cougar-fantasy material and that's all that really matters.

Have I mentioned there was a roomful of people in the operating room with me the other day?

Two surgeons, numerous nurses, an anesthesiologist, other confusing I-don't-know-who-they-were people, and two men from the company that makes the neurostimulator.

Romeo was one of the people in the operating room with me.

You know what that means?

Romeo has already seen me buck naked except for my sexy granny panties.

Romeo works as a stimulator expert.

I kid you not ...

Romeo is an official Expert Stimulator.

Romeo faithfully calls me at home every night to ask how I'm feeling.

We talk about pulsing sensations and how many batteries I might want to take care of my needs.

Romeo not only told me he would turn me on, he actually did!  

Quite successfully too.

"You made me tingly," I told him yesterday.

"Do you want more?" he asked.

""Yes!" I answered eagerly ....

And that is exactly what my time with Romeo is like.

Sometimes I want to giggle and giggle because - oh, the jokes and innuendos!

Romeo has told me I'm "cute" and that I "have a great laugh."  Clearly, that means we will run away together and spend our lives in green-smoky-eyed bliss.

Clearly.

Yesterday, I spent close to two hours with Romeo.  He turned me on repeatedly.  Sometimes the feelings were more intense; sometimes the feelings built slowly.  Once or twice, things got a little more intense than I could handle.

"Do you want me to slow down?" he asked.

"Maybe just a little," I answered.

"Are you sore?" he answered, concerned.

"No, it's okay.  I like it," I reassured him.

Today, Romeo and I are getting together again.  This time he said he'd show me three NEW ways to be turned on.

"I can make you feel all different types of sensations," he confided.

Romeo, Oh Romeo ....

© Twenty Four At Heart

Caught Naked

* Because I'm on vacation right now, I'm posting a repeat of a very popular post I wrote back in October of 2008.  (How is it even possible I've been blogging for that long?)  I hope it makes you smile. * 

I know you'll be surprised to hear I did something kind of stupid yesterday. 

It wasn't really stupid. 

I mean, it wasn't a result of a low IQ or anything like that. 

No, I'm pretty intelligent with the stupid things I do.  Most of the time they're the result of being preoccupied, or trying to do way more than any one person should try to do in any given day. 

So now we've established I'm a very bright individual, right? 

Good, fine. 

Remember that forever and ever.

I didn't get much sleep on Tuesday night. 

The whole blah, blah, blah pain and trying not to take any pain meds blah, blah, blah thing.  As a result, my intelligent brain might not have been firing all it's neurons on Wednesday.  I thought I'd hop on our elliptical (exercise equipment for you couch potatoes) and get a quick workout in before my standing 11 a.m. PT appointment.  Exercise creates endorphins and endorphins decrease pain. 

Supposedly. 

Sounds like a load of crap to me, but I'll try anything.

I finished my stellar workout having burned off maybe three calories.  I work out really hard like that. 

I came downstairs because all morning long my retrievers kept wanting to go outside every few minutes.  If you're one of the poor suckers people who follow me on Twitter, you got a message yesterday saying something along the lines of, "Let dogs in, let dogs out.  Let dogs in, let dogs out.  Let dogs in ...."  Honestly, my two retrievers have never been so annoying.

And yes, I really do send out earth-shattering messages like that on Twitter.

It never occurred to me maybe the dogs were going out a lot because there was something interesting for them to look at outside.  I admit, I was a little concerned initially because we had a rattlesnake pay us a visit the day before.  My backyard backs up to a canyon and lake.  There is nothing but wilderness behind our back fence.  It's very pretty.  It's been killer hot out here lately.  With the heat, sometimes we get critters like  mountain lion, deer, coyotes, bobcats, and rattlesnakes. 

I did have a brief moment where the thought of the dogs and the rattlesnake passed through my head, but I dismissed it.  That snake had plenty of time to move on from the prior day.  Also, the dogs weren't barking at anything.  Once a rattlesnake was right next to my foot and my Golden Retriever went berserk alerting me.  Retrievers are lovable, but also protective, and my dogs were not barking at anything.  They were just going in and out, and in and out, over and over again.

I finally got so frustrated with them I left our back door, leading to our backyard, wide open so they could go in and out without bothering me every two minutes.  For those of you who know me well, this is not normal behavior for me. 

No, I'm one of those neurotic people who always keeps the doors closed, and locked, all the time when I'm home.  Because it isn't normal behavior for me to leave a door wide open, I promptly forgot I had done so.  I was busy trying to knock out a few chores before I left for PT.

At one point I found myself in my laundry room tossing in a load to be washed.  I suddenly realized I might as well wash my workout clothes at the same time.  I stripped down naked in the laundry room, tossed some detergent in the washer and walked out.  I was going to head upstairs for a shower.

I like being naked just as much as the next person, but I'm not an exhibitionist. 

Also, hello? 

I'm in my forties.  Things don't look as great as they used to.  Come to think of it, things never looked great.  I'm the last person in the world to go advertising my stuff around town.

I walked out from the laundry room and found myself staring straight down a hall leading to our back door.  Both of my retrievers had retired to another room for a nap.  The door itself is glass, as is pretty much the entire back wall of our home.  We have lots and lots of windows so we can look out at the beautiful mountains and canyon. 

Standing there buck naked, I immediately noticed the back door wide open.  I hesitated.  I could head upstairs and take a shower.  However, I'm neurotic enough to be worried about showering with a door to my house wide open.  My other choice was to walk to the back door completely naked, shut the door, and then head to the shower.

I just couldn't take a shower with the door wide open. 

Besides, there's nothing but canyon behind our house. 

At least, not normally. 

I was about three feet from the door when I saw them.  Probably six landscaping men standing on the other side of our backyard fence.  Four of them were in discussion with their backs to me.  Two of them were turned towards me with their eyes glued on me. 

Naked me. 

Once in awhile our community hires landscaping teams to come in and clear brush from the perimeter of our neighborhood.  They do this in the name of fire prevention, which is of course, very important here in California.

I froze mid-step.  I'm not even kidding, it was as if I turned into a statue.  Should I take three or four more steps closer to those men to shut the door?  Or turn and run?  The door is glass, so even if I shut it, the men would have full view of me after I closed it. 

I couldn't move.  I stood there frozen for what seemed like hours, but was probably only seconds.  They didn't move either.  And then one of them did.  He turned and nudged one of the men next to him who was not yet staring in my direction.  He was alerting his buddies to the naked blonde woman they hadn't yet seen.

That was all it took to snap me out of my trance. 

In a millisecond I sprung forward, slammed the door shut, turned the lock, and sprinted away.  I'm sure they all got a nice view of my bouncing breasts and fat ass running away.

I suppose it gave them something to talk about? 

I wonder how many times they see naked women when they're out in wilderness areas clearing brush? 

It must happen every day. 

Or at least, that's what I told myself as I showered and quickly departed for the day.

© Twenty Four At Heart

One Foot In Front Of The Other

I've been keeping track of how many steps I take every day.

You've probably heard Everyone Who Knows Anything recommends you walk a minimum of 10,000 steps per day to stay healthy.

To make things very clear, 9,999 steps is not enough.

Before the car accident, I periodically kept track of how many steps I took each day and I was always, always, over 10,000 steps.

Now?

I've discovered I sometimes have to work at getting those extra steps in.

I suppose it's a combination of factors.  

Here are my excuses for becoming lazier than I used to be:

•  My kids are older now, so I'm chasing them less.

•  I'm older now too, and probably feeble minded - making me forget how to walk.

•  Photography, when done right, is quite physical - editing photos is not.

•  Blogging/writing is completely sedentary.  Haven't you heard of Blogger's Butt?

•  Watching endless high school baseball games provides a bonus of Bleacher Butt.

•  Pain flare-ups sometimes sideline me for days/weeks.

•  Someone might bring bon-bons if I don't get off the couch.

(Just kidding, I've never once had a bon bon.  However, if you'd like to bring me some I'm willing to try them!)

My interest was peaked when I heard a friend talking about Fitbit, a high-tech computerized pedometer-and-so-much-more. 

Like everyone else, however, I've been trying to cut down on expenses and I didn't feel like I could justify spending quite so much when I primarily just wanted a good pedometer.

A few months ago, I ended up purchasing an Omron pedometer for only twenty-something dollars.  (Any good/reliable pedometer will do!)

I really do LIKE my pedometer, but I admit to also having a love/hate relationship with it.

I love it when it tells me how active I am.

I  stuff it in a drawer  hate it when it tells me I've spent the day being lazy.

On days when I exceed 10,000 steps I scoff at people who are only in the 9,000 step range.  ("Woo Hoo everybody - I walked 15,000 steps today, what did your lazy ass do?")

On days when I fall below 8,000 steps I  throw it against the wall  vow to do better the next day.

Using a pedometer definitely makes me more aware, and that's the whole point of using one.

For example, I now know it takes me approximately 2,000 steps to walk one mile.  (Obviously, if your legs are shorter or longer than mine this might vary.)

In addition, I thought I was getting a lot more steps into my average day than I was.  I suppose we all tend to over-estimate our activity levels.

I also discovered, to my complete surprise, my busiest days are often my least active ones.

(Driving from place to place in a frantic rush may make you feel like you're running your ass off, but it's a proven fact driving makes your ass get bigger.)

If I find I'm getting fewer steps in than I want on any given day, I'll make a point of trying to add in extra steps wherever I can.  I might park way the hell on the far side of a parking lot and walk to the entrance of my destination, etc.  I've even been seen pacing my backyard as I participate in  exasperated  thoughtful phone discussions with my lawyer.

I'm sure using strike throughs a lot today, aren't I?  

Yes, I am!

(Let's blame the pain meds ... let's blame EVERYTHING on the pain meds, okey dokey?)

What was I saying?

Oh yes,

I've been wearing my pedometer pretty faithfully for a couple months now.

I haven't turned into a hard-body, by any means.

In fact, I haven't lost all the weight I gained while on prednisone.

(Did I mention, perhaps a zillion times, I grew to blimp-proportions while taking that evil drug steroid?)

I do, however, feel much more accountable when I'm wearing a pedometer.

That, in itself, is pretty motivating ....

© Twenty Four At Heart 

Happy Fourth of July

Today is The Fourth of July, Independence Day, for all of us living in the United States.

Ironically enough, it's also my 24th wedding anniversary!

Twenty four years of lost independence ...

Wow!

If all goes as planned, I'll be watching fireworks at the beach with a zillion other people tonight.

(I always try to avoid the beach on holiday weekends, with the night of The Fourth being an exception.)

I hope you have a fun, safe, and sparkly holiday!

© Twenty Four At Heart

Follow-Up

I want to to provide some follow-up today to a previous (serious) post, and also answer a few questions.  I know today's subject matter is an unusual topic for me to address, but I write about the experiences in my life, whatever they might be.  If sharing those experiences helps to inform and/or educate other people I think it's worth taking the time and space to write about them.

 ** Before I start, I'd like to point out - I'm not in the medical profession.  If you have questions/concerns you should talk to your doctor. **

Dr. Important called yesterday.

We played phone tag for awhile, and I admit my stomach clenched with anxiety every time my phone rang until we finally connected.

Here are the biopsy results on the four colon polyps he removed:

One was benign ... that means it was as innocent as I am. (!!!!)

Three were pre-cancerous, but came back with "clear margins" meaning he removed them in their entirety, leaving no bad cells behind.  (Which means, if I had not gone in for a colonoscopy they would have become cancer!)

Whew!

Can you spell r-e-l-i-e-f?

I'm so GLAD I had the test done, and so GLAD a doctor with the expertise of Dr. Important was the one doing it.

As far as next steps ....

I will be having a super-sized follow-up procedure with a more specialized scope (and under general anesthesia) in six months.  I will be checked frequently and vigilantly in the future.  And because of those things, I should be FINE.

A few of you wrote in with questions, and because I think YOUR HEALTH is important, I'm going to answer your questions publicly.

•  What symptoms did I have?  Most of the time, polyps cause NO symptoms.  I was experiencing a burning sensation under my rib cage.  It was up high on my body and I initially thought it might be an ulcer.  As it turns out, I'm a freak of nature and have an unusually long colon.  It's all twisted up inside of me which is probably what was causing the sensation, not the actual polyps the doctor discovered.

•  What is a polyp?  A polyp is a growth.  There are different types of polyps, and some are more likely to become cancerous than others.

•  What causes polyps?  There are a few different things that can cause polyps: 

Genetics are a big factor.  If anyone in your immediate family (mother, father, sisters, brothers) have had polyps, you are much more likely to get them also and should start being checked at age 40, or sooner if you have any changes/symptoms such as constipation or diarrhea for more than a week, and/or bleeding.  

I didn't know prior to my test, but it turns out - my mother and brother have had polyps.  No one had ever told me, so I thought there was no family history to be concerned with.  I had also told Dr. Important I had no family history of colon cancer or polyps.  We were both shocked when he discovered four polyps.  Once he found out I DO have a family history, he was no longer at all surprised.

 (Apparently no one in my family thought it ideal to discuss colonoscopies and polyps over dinner.  They were WRONG.  Knowing your family history could save your life.)

Your diet is also a huge determining factor.  

Studies have found polyps are found at a more frequent rate in people who eat a lot of processed/chemically treated foods.  (I don't, by the way.)

Additional studies have found polyps are more frequently discovered in people who have diets high in saturated fats.  (I don't have a diet high in saturated fats either.)

I think most adults know, for good health in general, what foods are in the healthy vs. unhealthy categories.  

And no, I don't want to argue the details folks.  

We all can agree candy does not provide the nutrients an orange does.  Ice cream vs. broccoli, etc.

Eating a healthy, balanced, diet is better than eating a crappy one.

Smoking/Alcohol - Studies have found people who smoke, and people who drink a lot of alcohol, are more likely to form colon polyps.

Lack of exercise - People who don't exercise regularly are more likely to form polyps.

Overweight - People who are overweight are more likely to form polyps.  (And no, I haven't lost all of the weight I gained while on prednisone!)

•  Is there anything I can do to cut down on my chances of forming polyps or having colon cancer?  Yes, you can't control your genetics, but you can eat healthy, exercise, watch your weight, and moderate/decrease your smoking and/or drinking.  Those are all things we're supposed to be doing anyway, right?  

And yes, you can be doing everything "right" and STILL form polyps.

(Isn't life grand?!)

There are also some indications increasing your calcium intake may decrease polyp formation.  

Lastly, I'd like to urge all of you to get over your colonoscopy fears (which I had too!) and follow your doctor's recommendations for preventative health care.

I cannot stress the importance enough.

© Twenty Four At Heart

Father's Day

I hope you enjoy a wonderful, relaxing, Father's Day today.

(Briefcase, once upon a time, with our three rugrats.)

© Twenty Four At Heart

It's Done, But It's Not Over

I had a much dreaded colonoscopy yesterday.

As everyone had warned me, the prep for it was way worse than the test itself.  And by prep, I mean drinking The Vile Shit-Cleanser ahead of time.  The nonstop, pooping isn't as bad as choking down the gag-producing concoction you're forced to drink.  (At least, for me it wasn't.  Not that nonstop shitting is fun ....)  

Yesterday afternoon, I arrived on time, but the OR rooms were extremely backed up and I had a long wait ahead of me.

I met Dr. Important while I waited.

He is VERY nice.  In spite of the embarrassment factor of meeting him for the first time and discussing a possible future dinner out (yes, we really did), and then having him put  a 300 mile long tube up my ass ....  I'm happy Briefcase got me in to see him.  

Dr. Important is, indeed, a very important doc in his field of medicine.  He's also a really, really, nice guy.  

As far as the actual procedure, I remember being wheeled back to the room and the nurses getting things set up.

The next thing I remember was semi-waking up at one point during the colonoscopy and saying, "Ow!" because I felt cramping in my abdomen.  I saw Dr. Important look up, nod to the nurse and I was instantly out again.

Those are some very magical drugs they use.

Awhile later, I was waking up in the recovery room.  In front of me was a somber Dr. Important.  I instantly knew, the test didn't go as perfectly as I had imagined it would.

I have no family history of colon cancer, but Dr. Important explained to me it is currently the third highest killer of both men and women in our country.

In case you're wondering, for women the leading killer cancers are:

1.  Breast

2.  Lung

3.  Colon

For men the leading killer cancers are:

1.  Prostate

2.  Lung

3.  Colon

Dr. Important showed me photos, and a video, of what he found during my test.

As it turns out, he removed four polyps.

They weren't "normal" polyps either.

They were weird, bad types, of polyps.

Very unusual polyps doing funky things polyps aren't supposed to do.

He told me it was not at all what he would expect to find in someone of my (very young!) age.

(I might have added the "very young" to that dialog, but can you blame me?) 

A couple of the polyps were also very difficult to recognize as polyps and a less experienced doctor could have easily missed them.

I will find out if any, or all of, the polyps are cancerous in a week or two.

In the meantime, I'm sticking my head in the sand and convincing myself I do not have colon cancer.  

I do not have colon cancer, I do not have colon cancer, I do not have colon cancer.

Damn, I sure hope I don't have colon cancer.

(I will, of course, update you once I get the pathology reports back.)

In the meantime, I'm not allowed to exercise or eat any spicy foods for the next week while my colon heals from having the polyps removed.  (Either/or could cause bleeding and if there's bleeding, I have to get right back into the hospital.)

There was also more not-so-good news.

Even if the polyps are NOT cancerous, he wants to have me come back in six months and go through the procedure again under full anesthesia.  (This time I was under "conscious sedation" which is why I sorta woke up at one point.)

He explained my colon is more difficult than some to scope (of course, it is!) and so he wants to knock me completely out so he can do an extra thorough exam.  Also, since my body is producing these weird, unusual, straight-from-outer-space polyps - he will have to watch me closely even if these initial polyps come back benign.

In other words, I have a lot of colonoscopies in my future.

Just a day ago I told Briefcase I would never, ever, drink that prep stuff again.

I was wrong.

I'll be drinking it again soon, and many times in my future.

And you know what?

Dr. Important said, "Thank goodness you came in when you did."

No kidding.

Colon cancer usually first shows itself in a polyp.

I am SO glad I had the test done.

I'm also SO glad I had such a great doctor do it.

(If you're in The OC and need a referral, feel free to email me and I will happily give you Dr. Important's real name.)

P.S.  If you have any symptoms, even MINOR symptoms, please get over your colonoscopy fears and go get checked regardless of what age you are.

P.P.S.  If you're 50 years old, or older, and haven't had a colonoscopy yet you need to pull your head out of your ass the sand and book one NOW.

No excuses people!

It's important.

© Twenty Four At Heart 

Day Two of Fasting

Well, today's the day I get a camera up the ass.

(Around 2ish this afternoon, if you want to know details!)

I suppose it's only fitting for someone who is as obsessed by photography as I am.

Thank you for all the helpful, and hilarious, comments yesterday.

I, literally, used your ideas for a shopping trip both to the drugstore and the grocery store.

I will try to get at least a one liner post up tomorrow letting you know I'm FINE.

Which I am, and will be.

(Although, I have been gagging down the prep stuff they make you drink.  OMG!  I don't even like to drink water.  Why isn't there a pill you can just take to accomplish the same thing?  UGH! I have to drink FOUR LITERS, a gallon, of it.  Worst.Thing.Ever!)

In other news, I stopped by to see my friends at the plastic surgery office yesterday.  (I needed more eye cream, and I buy it there.)  It was a full on hug-fest when I saw everybody.

"Twenty Four's here, let's stop working and have a party!"

I love those people, I really do.

Also,

Almost every time I stop in they ask me if I want to be a guinea pig for the latest and greatest magic beauty trick.

It's fun!

(And yes, they benefit when I write about my experiences because publicity from someone who loves and respects them is a good thing.  Their office is so busy though, it isn't like they NEED me to write about them.)

Anyway, I'm going to attend their staff meeting next Tuesday (unless some unforeseen something interferes with my plans).  They're going to be reviewing and learning about some new STUFF and I'm going to be learning right along with them.

And yes, I've already agreed to be a guinea pig for some of this new STUFF down the road.  I'm not even quite sure what I agreed to, but when I find out I'll let you know.  I do know it's non-surgical.  

When the time comes, I'll also write quite honestly about whatever they end up doing to me.  (As you'll recall, they let me be a guinea pig for Zerona treatment and I was not impressed and told you so.)  

Sadly enough, they haven't yet offered me an "extreme makeover."

While I was at the office yesterday, they zapped a little red spot I've had on my face for a good ten years.  Just ZAPPED it with a laser and it was gone.

Poof!

(And no, I wasn't asked to pay for it.  And no, I wasn't asked, or expected, to write about it.  And no, I didn't have an appointment to do it.  This is just what happens whenever I walk in to visit.  It took all of a millisecond.)

Also, a woman was waiting for an appointment.  I had never met her before, and still have no idea who she was.  She looked at me as I walked through the waiting area and out of the blue she said, "They're going to have to drag me kicking and screaming to old age."

Ha ha!

THAT is Orange County in a nutshell!

In any case, I'll keep you updated as I learn more about whatever it is I'll be doing with them.

In the meantime, I'll be hanging out at Camp Bathroom until later today.

I have, literally, set up everything I need to entertain myself for hours in there.  I'm nothing, if not a multi-tasker.

Sheesh, aren't you proud to know me?

P.S.  If you leave me a comment saying hello and/or delurking today it will give me something to read while I'm, ahem, sitting around!  : )

© Twenty Four At Heart

Up Yours, I Mean MINE

Before I get started on today's post, I have to ask if you saw the moon last night?

I took the above photo from my back patio.  

It was so pretty.  

Watching the "moon rises" over the mountain is one of my favorite things about where I live.  

Anyway ...

You'll have to excuse me if I'm a little cranky in the next day or two.

I'm fasting.

Clear liquids (water and tea, etc.) only.

For two days!

TWO DAYS!!

I'm also more than a little anxious (in other words DREADING) having a colonoscopy on Thursday.

How gross, right?

But,

I've been having stomach issues for some time.  I'm sure it's just stress.  (I have things going on in my life - who doesn't?)

But ...

My doc suggested I have a colonoscopy just to make sure nothing weird's going on.  

Have I ever mentioned my husband works in the medical field?

He knows every Dr. Important in the United States, Europe, Australia, New Zealand, etc., etc.  

So this is what's going to happen ...

I'll be fasting for two days.

I'll be drinking HORRIBLE STUFF on Wednesday night, and again on Thursday morning.

I'll be flushing a lot on both days (and possibly playing Angry Birds and/or Tiny Wings while sitting on a toilet).

(Is that more than you wanted to know??)

On Thursday afternoon one of my husband's friends will be sticking a camera up my ass.

Yes, someone my husband goes out to Important Dinners with will be giving me The Ultimate Anal Probe.

That won't be at all awkward now, will it?

Can't you just picture their next dinner out at some big fancy restaurant?

Dr. Important will say (as he munches on a chicken wing clam), "So Briefcase, I couldn't help but notice your wife has a Brazilian.  Do you like it?"

And Briefcase will nonchalantly reply, "Well, Dr. Important, it works for me."

Speaking of the state of my hoo haa (which is exactly what we're doing right now), it just so happens I'm currently overdue for my monthly waxing.  My waxing salon is booked up until next week.  I will be crotch-to-face with Dr. Important ... looking a little, um, unkempt.

OMIGOD!!

How much worse can it get?

I mean, as if having a camera stuck up your ass by your husband's FRIEND isn't bad enough!

I keep imagining my conversation with Dr. Important during this "procedure."

Dr. Important:  "Well, Twenty Four, would you like to join Briefcase and I for dinner at the Ritz Carlton next time we go?"

"Um, gee, no thanks Dr. Important.  I'd hate to put a DAMPer on the conversation."

Dr. Important:  "Well, we'll miss you.  On the other hand, maybe you could use that time alone to tidy up your snatch a little."

(Yes, these are the type of things I REALLY DO think about!)

Now, I know someone will ask why I have to fast for TWO days - instead of the normal ONE day.  It's a result of a combination of factors, none of which really matter.  The only reason I mention it at all is because I've been blogging for long enough to know at least one person will write in and say, "I had a colonoscopy and only had to fast for ONE day."

I'm sure that's very true.

But, in my case, there are reasons.

I've been told, by brave souls who have had this procedure done, I will NOT remember having a camera up my ass at all.  Dr. Important (like most docs, I'm sure) gives his patients an "amnesia drug."  Supposedly, I will leave with no memory, whatsoever, of the test.  

In fact, someone I know and trust told me "it's simple, it's nothing."

?????

Well, regardless, you can bet I will tell you honestly if it's indeed "nothing."  I will also tell you whether or not the amnesia drug works.  Will I, or won't I, remember my husband's friend sticking a camera up my ass and having a look-see around?

I honestly would be more comfortable having a gyn exam by one of my husband's friends vs. a colonoscopy.

It's still a full day away, but I'm filled with nothing but DREAD.

And shit.

I guess I'm full of shit too ...

FLUSH!

© Twenty Four At Heart

Feathers In My Hair

* I still don't have a computer.  It makes it very difficult to get photos uploaded.  Today's photos were taken with my iPhone. *

It's apparently a very bad year to be a rooster.

Hair stylists in Orange County are paying $300 for small, minimum, orders of rooster feather hair extensions to adorn people with.

These same feather hair extensions are selling out within minutes of becoming available.  Feathers are very in right now.  I suppose we have Steven Tyler (from the band Aerosmith and this season's American Idol) to thank for that.

Yesterday, I walked into my usual salon for a haircut.

The salon always displays/sells trendy jewelry in their waiting area.

It's mainly all feather jewelry right now.

Feather necklaces and feather bracelets ...

And also feather earrings:

I decided to have my hair styled a little shorter this time, with lots of choppy layers for summer.  It came out cute and sassy.  I think it will be a fun cut for the warm weather.  I can blow dry it straight, or scrunch it up with a little styling gel right out of the shower and get on with my day.

Just as I was about to leave, my stylist suggested I add a feather extension to my hair.  She pulled out bright fuschia pink, turquoise blue, and purple striped rooster feathers.  She explained a feather extension would last for about three months.

I was tempted.

I love to play with my hair and I especially like to do fun things with it in the summer.  (Some of you'll recall, I've put pink, purple and even blue streaks in my blonde hair from time to time.)

I told her I'm definitely up for a bright color or two a little later in the summer.  (Perhaps right before BlogHer in August to help make me more identifiable in the crowd.)

I had a huge parent, high school sponsored, banquet to attend last night though and I didn't want to be quite so BRIGHT for it.  (I think I've already been labeled as "the creative type," as it is.)

"I've got just the thing," she replied. 

And she did .... 

It's subtle and I can easily hide it in my hair when I don't want to show it off.  The rest of the time, it adds a little bit of fun to my life.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with feather extensions, you can wash and style your hair just the same as you always do when wearing them.  They last around three months, and can be adjusted during that time period to coincide with the growth of your hair.

Later in the day, a friend told me she has an aunt who's 85 years old and just got several feather extensions "which look fabulous."

"I'll be that woman when I'm 85," I commented a bit sheepishly.

"That's why I love you," was the reply.

I smiled.

After all, why not have fun?

It's just hair ....

Or in this case, feathers.

© Twenty Four At Heart

Faded Sunflowers

I was supposed to visit my daughter in Boston for Memorial Day weekend, but I had to cancel my plans.

Knowing I won't be making the trip has made me miss her more than usual.

I bought a few of her favorite flowers the other day just because.

It's nice to have them around, reminding me of her.

© Twenty Four At Heart

Summer, Summer, Summer!

* This is not a sponsored post. *

Oh, how I love warm weather!

We've had a bleh cold front here lately and it has made me SO restless for summer.

(I also find myself thinking about our upcoming trip to Hawaii with much anticipation.  We didn't take a vacation last year which has made me doubly eager to go on one this year.)

Warm-weather-living is an art form here.

I thought I'd share a few summer-related things I love today.

•  I love, love, love this Lands End beach towel:

It's big, it's soft, it's durable - it will last for years.  (They also make great gifts for teens anyone.)  If you swim daily, beach frequently, or just love plush beach towels, this is a great pick.  Even better - pick one up when they go on sale which is what I always do.

•  "Everyone" in The OC is wearing Tom's Shoes:

They've been around for awhile, but their popularity here is at full-fledged epidemic proportion right now.  So ugly, they're cute ...?  They're trendy, but not expensive and every pair purchased leads to one pair of shoes being donated to a child in need.  That's right - you get to feel good about your shoe habit!

(Don't order them online though - you can try on five pairs in the same size and get vastly different fits.  No two pair ever seem to fit the same. ) 

And yes, the pair I have are very comfortable!

•  Tommy Bahama makes some cute summer bags and totes.  This one, with its leather handle, makes me daydream about strolling island shops.

So cute!

Wouldn't that look nice on my arm?

Your arm?

Someone's arm?

•  I don't discuss it much on my blog, but I'm a melanoma survivor.  As much as I love the sun, I'm always very careful with sun protection.  I'm a fan of the company Sun Precautions.  (I originally learned about them from a doctor.)  When I'm out with my camera, by the pool, or at the beach - I almost always have their Women's Big Shirt draped over whatever I'm wearing.  

It's huge, it provides 30+ SPF, and for years it (or one of their other cover-ups) has always been with me.  

•  Speaking of sun protection, I hate hats.  They make me hot, they give me hat hair, they make my head sweat.  

There's only one hat I've ever liked.  Nike forced me to buy it years ago right after my melanoma diagnosis.  It's a Helen Kaminski hat.  It travels really well, stays cool in the hottest weather, and looks great too.  I've worn it for years and years.

I balked at the cost initially (Kaminski hats are not cheap), but Nike insisted it would be worth it and she was right.  Nike is always right.  It's the only hat I've ever needed and it has held up great for (I think?) eight plus years of year-round use.

I don't think they still make the exact hat I have, but they have plenty of other cute ones. 

In fact, as I was getting their link for you, I noticed this one:

How chic is that?

And yes, the one pictured above is expensive ...

But?

Gorgeous! 

•  Need a good tote for traveling this summer?

Well, here's another tip from my friend Nike.  She's carried the same Baggalini tote bag with her while traveling for ten years!  It's still in great condition.  They've got so many choices of bags, there's bound to be one you like.  (And their prices are very reasonable!)

I don't know if the bag Nike owns is still available, but I think this one looks perfect for a long flight:

It's called an "Only Bag."  I'm not sure yet, but it might be the only bag I carry onto the plane with me this summer.

© Twenty Four At Heart 

Mother's Day

It has been a tough few days.

For a lot of reasons, I'm hoping today goes by quickly and I just get through it.

I know holidays bring mixed, or just plain sad, emotions for a lot of people.

I was lucky enough to grow up with a fantastic mother, however.

(I think my dad must have been the one who took the above photo.  He's always loved cameras - go figure.)  

I'm the baby in the blue dress and that's my mom holding me up.  

It seems like she's done that, in one way or another, a million times throughout my life.

Happy Mother's Day to her ... and all of you!

© Twenty Four At Heart

Invisalign

* This is an unsponsored post. *

About two months ago, I began wearing Invisalign.

What is Invisalign?

Basically Invisalign is a clear, see-through, type of braces for your teeth.

Here's an iPhone photo of me with the Invisalign "aligners" on.

As you can see, there's not much to see!

(Except those wrinkles under my eyes!  Why didn't I Photoshop them away?)

So, why did I decide to do Invisalign?

When I was young I had braces.  I got my braces off at the age of 12.  For years, my teeth stayed "perfect."

About two years ago, I noticed one of my lower teeth was moving quickly and substantially.  It was turning almost sideways and slipping behind my other teeth.  Even though it bothered me, I had no intention of doing anything about it.  I certainly didn't want braces for a second time.  Also, my lower teeth aren't that visible when I smile so I figured I would just live with it.

Six months ago, my upper teeth began moving too.  Specifically, my upper two front teeth were moving quickly.  Yes, those same two front teeth which are the most visible teeth every time I talk or smile.

I had visions of Bugs Bunny teeth.

After talking with my dentist, and my kids' orthodontist, I decided to do Invisalign.

Every 2-3 weeks I put in a new set of clear aligners.  Each set moves my teeth a little closer to where they're supposed to be.  I should be done with the whole process of teeth straightening in about three months.  The aligners pop out when I eat, but stay in the rest of the time.  

The discomfort has been extremely minimal, and I love that I can take the aligners out when/if I need to.

Really, for me, the only negative has been the fact that I can no longer sip on coffee for hours in the morning.  (I don't want to keep the aligners off for that length of time.)  My coffee drinking time still exists, but I don't just aimlessly sip it for hours anymore.

Really, not that big of a sacrifice ...

After I got Invisalign, (and by the way - paid, in full, for it), I wrote to them and suggested they might be interested in working with me.  I get so many PR offers each day, and most of the products would hold no interest to my readers.  I thought Invisalign had a product some of you might be interested in. 

As a side note, I never write to companies suggesting they might want me to write about them on Twenty Four At Heart.  Also, I specifically told them I wasn't looking for any free product/services for myself.

Guess what?

They never even bothered to respond.

Boo Hiss Invisalign!

Maybe they don't like the fact I sometimes use swear words, or write words like "vagina?"  Maybe they only like young Mommy Bloggers and don't realize how many non-mommy-bloggers their product would appeal to?

In any case, it's their loss.

Yes, I'm writing about my experience, but no - they aren't getting any promotional benefits.

I've been told my teeth will not be 100% perfect when I'm done, but that they should be about 97-98% perfect.  I can live with that - and to me, it's a decent trade-off for not having metal braces a second time.

More importantly, the final set of aligners will act as ongoing retainers.  I will wear them, only at night, once my teeth are done being corrected.  Wearing them just at night will prevent my teeth from moving in the future.

I'll update you when I'm done and let you know if I think the process was worth the cost.

Also, if I can get my before photos from the orthodontist, I'll post before and after photos once I'm done.

Would you do some form of teeth straightening as an adult?

How about any type of cosmetic dentistry?

© Twenty Four At Heart

Snips and Snails and ...? Bits and Pieces

It seems like so much has been going on these last few weeks.

My list of topics to blog about is long.

In an effort to get partially caught up, I'm going to share random snippets today.

I'm always a little random anyway, aren't I?

•  A couple weeks ago, I attended a bridal shower for a woman who used to be the primary babysitter for my kids.  When did she become a woman and not a teen babysitter?  The shower was held in a beautiful home on Balboa Island in Newport Beach.  Here's the view from one of the balconies:

The shower was an all day affair, and beautifully done.  I dreaded getting dressed up and having to act like a girl girly, but it ended up being a very nice day.  My only regret was not having any time to stroll the island.  I'll have to make another trip to visit sometime soon - it's very close to me.

•  I bought this cookbook for my daughter.  Before mailing it to her, I looked through it and decided I wanted a copy too.  So yes, I did go back and buy a second one for myself.

The key words on the cover being "easy" and "fast."

•  Remember Problem Kid ... the mentally ill college student who was threatening my son before being institutionalized?  And then he was released, but threatening my son from New York?  We've been informed his family has taken him to Peru for treatment.  (Which is odd because didn't his family live in Brazil?  On the other hand ....)

It's a bit of a relief to have him out of the country.  I do hope he gets the treatment he needs.

•  I opened a fortune cookie a couple weeks ago and this is what the fortune said:

I feel like I should do something with my life now, but I'm not sure what ....

•  I bought a couple flowers to plant for the first time since the car accident.  (So yes, that means in nearly five years!)

And no, I don't have enough function in my arm to plant them.  They've been sitting around for days now.  I keep batting my eyelashes at Briefcase, but he hates gardening so he ignores me.  I'll let you know if they every get planted.  Sigh!  (Blogging about it today might help .... it's called husband-guilt via the wife's blog.  Not that I would ever resort to tactics like that ....)

•  Mocha enjoys holidays because she gets a few extra table scraps.  Can you tell she's interested?

And lastly, I have a new avatar for Twitter and Facebook.  I took a quick snapshot in the car Friday night and then edited it with the ColorSplash app.  (Don't worry, Briefcase was doing the driving.)  Telling you about our night out deserves an entire post of its own because celebrities (!) and OC madness might have been involved.

In the meantime, if you're on Twitter or Facebook you'll find me looking like this:

(The red scarf was my effort to show team support for the Angels baseball team.)

I know, I know ... Mocha is much cuter.

© Twenty Four At Heart 

Signs My Hormones *Might* Be Changing

* I love you, male readers, but you're not going to want to read this post!  Please come back and visit again tomorrow!  xo

Ok, first of all, let's just be honest.

Women's hormones are always changing, even before our first period.  Our gender is screwed by forces out of our control.  

Basically, we're fucked the moment our ovaries develop in utero.

Remember, a couple months ago when I told you there was a shortage of tampons?

Later that same week, I saw my favorite brand of tampons back in the stores and I decided to stock up on them.  (There were rumors they were being discontinued.)  I might have gone a little overboard by buying enough to last me another two years.  Stop laughing ... I was very focused at the time.

I haven't had a period since.

No kidding.

I have a cupboard filled with a two year supply of tampons and I'm pregnant.

Oh wait ...???

I've had a period every 28 days since I was barely 11 years old.  (My three pregnancies being the only exception.)  My body is like clockwork ....

So, what the hell?

"I just went through menopause," I announced to Briefcase when my period was a week late.

"What?" he asked skeptically.  

"Menopause.  I went through it last week while you were gone," I answered.

He raised one eye questioningly, grabbed a beer, and wisely hid behind the newspaper.

"Maybe we're going to have a BABY!" I suddenly exclaimed wide-eyed.

(long silent pause)

"A BABY!" I said again, in case he hadn't heard me.  "That's why my jeans are so tight!"

I instantly began worrying about my unborn fourth child, and what my three existing kids might think about a sibling so much younger than themselves.  Baby names started popping into my head at an alarming rate.

"Um, Suzanne?  Do you remember having your tubes tied?" Briefcase asked questioningly.  "It was around fifteen years ago ...?"

"Oh, that's right," I frowned.  I absently tugged on my too-tight jeans as I pondered the idea I might simply be - fat. 

Clearly, that is not an acceptable possibility.

"My tubes must have grown back together!" I announced suddenly.  

Briefcase gave me a panicked look, then sighed, and shook his head no.

(He seems to do that a lot around me.)

I turned to Doctor Google and began muttering out loud as I read.

  •  I haven't had any night sweats - it can't be menopause.

  •  I'm (so!) lacking "mental clarity" - it must be menopause.

  •  I haven't had any hot flashes - it can't be menopause.

Here are my symptoms:

I've been getting a lot of headaches and they seem hormone related.  (Meaning they're the kind of headache I often get when I'm PMS-ing.)  But maybe they're related to my arm/shoulder/neck injuries instead?   

The music I chose, and put on my own iPod, is irritating the hell out of me.

On Tuesday I woke up with a pimple on the left side of my nose.

By Friday it was gone, but I had a new one on the right side of my nose.

On Sunday, I stared in the mirror, horrified, as I watched mustache hairs sprout out of my face right before my eyes.

I'm completely lacking in energy.  I'm considering a full time job as a couch. (Or just, perhaps, taking a nap - whatever!)

I'm craving carbs (especially chocolate!) just like I do when I'm PMS-y-ish, but no period.

I cried a ridiculous amount at a sad movie the other night.  I always cry at sad movies, but not as much as I did at this one.  (Broken hearts are a tragedy, let's all sob out loud together and hold hands while we do it!)

I seem to be going through some sort of I don't know what I want to be when I grow up crisis.  Also?  How did my life turn out like this, what the hell?

I suddenly don't know who the frumpy lady in the mirror is, but I wish she would give the old me back.

So Internet, what do you think?

Am I pregnant?

Am I perimenopausal ... whatever that is?

Or maybe I really did have a one week jump into full blown menopause?  Is that even possible?  Without any hot flashes/night sweats ... anything?

© Twenty Four At Heart

Memories

It's funny how in the span of just a few days ...

I went back in time and relived so much of my past.

I laughed, I cried ...

I submerged myself in all of my past experiences, and feelings, again.

And then?

Just like that ...

I knew it was time to put the memories away, and close the door.

© Twenty Four At Heart

Proving (Once Again!), I'm Willing to Humiliate Myself on the Internet

We've been doing some cleaning out, and rearranging, at home lately.

Yesterday, I found a huge box of old photo albums Briefcase had recently moved into our garage.  Our garage gets really hot during the summer.  I didn't want all our old photos ruined from the heat.  I opened the box and began moving them inside.

Of course, I got sidetracked and started looking through old albums.

And, of course, my arm started flipping out (!!) on me for having moved the heavy box.  (I only moved it a total of six inches, but!)

I decided moving all the heavy albums, without help, wasn't a smart thing to do.  So I stopped moving them, left them strewn all over the floor for Briefcase to swear at   find  pick up later, and sat down perusing the albums I had so far rescued.

And then ...

I began to giggle.

Why?

Well, because .....

 

In 1984 I was very skinny, and now I'm fat.  I also had big poofy hair, because it was the eighties and there was some kind of rule about having Farrah hair right about then.  

It seems hairstyles changed frequently, because by 1985 my hair went perm-curly-crazy.

Napa - summer of 1985  (Photo taken by Briefcase.  He was new to my life.  At the time, I never in a million years would have believed I'd end up eventually marrying him.  He, clearly, was not my type.)

Please notice the horrible Dolphin shorts in the above photo.  Yesterday, one of my readers asked me what Dolphin shorts were on Twitter.  She's, obviously, a young-un.  I explained to her Dolphin shorts were all the rage in the 1980's for some un-Godly reason.  Dolphin shorts made the thinnest of thighs look fat and were not complimentary on anyone.  And ... they were very, very, SHORT shorts.

You probably also noticed, even in 1985, I had a camera around my neck.  Photography and I go waaaaaaaaaay back.

Well, 1985 rolled on and by the end of the year Briefcase and I were serious enough to take a vacation together.  We took off for a week at Club Med in Cancun, Mexico.

Oh yes, we did!

How eighties is that?

One day, on our Cancun Club Med vacation, as I was pulling back my wild-permed hair to head out to the beach, Briefcase was being annoying and snapped this photo of me as I said, "Don't take my photo!"

Look!  

I was unintentionally sexy in a very 80's way.

I wish my body still looked like that.

Do you know, at the time, I thought I was fat.

Seriously, I did.

I'm 5'5" tall and I weighed 115 pounds.

I guess, like many women, I've always felt insecure about my body - even when I was thin.

Also?

I had never touched the color of my hair.  That horrible, brassy, look in the above photo?  It's, no doubt, from too much sun combined with the 1985 perm.

(Now, of course, I've tried all sorts of different things with my hair ... pink, purple, highlights, low-lights - you name it!)

Okay, I suppose I've given you enough laughs for one day.

Did you hear me?

I said you can stop laughing (at me) now ....

© Twenty Four At Heart

Beauty THIS? Beauty THAT?

About a week and a half ago, I told you about visiting my friends who work at Pacific Plastic Surgery Center.  At the time, I let my friend Suzanne, a nurse, do pretty much anything she wanted to me (in terms of non-surgical cosmetic procedures).  I only had to pay for the actual cost of the product(s) which made me much more open to experimenting.

If you missed my earlier post, you can go back and read it by clicking here.  

First, I wanted to give you a quick update on the results of the hand treatment I received.  Suzanne injected my boney hands with Radiesse.  Initially, my hands were swollen and bruised.  Now, nearly two weeks later I'm happy to say I LOVE the effect this treatment had.  Love, love, love!  My hands now look like real, live, hands and not skinny chicken bones covered by skin.

I'll also confess, if I had initially been told I would have to pay for the full cost of this treatment (around $1,800), I would never have done it.  Now that I've seen the results, however, I'm floored at what a dramatic improvement it made.  I've been self conscious about my hands for years, and my results have been fantastic.  I'm absolutely thrilled I had the opportunity to receive this treatment.

Thrilled!

(Note to Radiesse manufacturer:  Please make your product more affordable - women would LOVE to use it!)

In my previous post, I also mentioned Suzanne did two other treatments to me while I was there.

The first was injecting Dysport to my forehead.  Dysport is, apparently, the new rage in Orange County.  (I had never heard about it before my visit.)  It's similar to Botox, but much less expensive.  By the way, I always wear a hairstyle with bangs because hello forehead wrinkles.  

Suzanne injected Dysport in my forehead and it seems to have smoothed out those lines.  It's nice, and seems to give a "softening" effect.  I don't have the harsh, frozen, Botox mask so many women walk around Orange County with.  (Which, by the way?  Doesn't look good!)  I can also still move my eyebrows and express my (many?) emotions.  This may be a tribute to Suzanne's expertise more than anything.  Of course, I also didn't use Dysport all over my face ... I'm sure that makes a difference too.

I still have bangs so I don't know how noticeable my temporary Dysport change will be to anyone but me.  It's, of course, nicer to NOT have forehead wrinkles than to have them.  I think the Dysport wears off over the course of about three months. 

Suzanne, by the way, is very good at her job.  In fact, she's so good she trains other nurses in the correct way to use all the latest injectable beauty aids.  She's very conservative and very conscious of avoiding the overdone Plastic Barbie look.

Suzanne told me when she looked at me there was really one thing that stood out that she really thought I needed. 

(Uh oh!)

Suzanne told me, as women age (<---AGE:  what a terrible word!  Boo!  Hiss!) they lose volume in the upper cheek area which, in turn, makes our "laugh lines" get deeper.  A lot of women in Orange County put fillers in their laugh lines and then they walk around looking like chipmunks.

(Um, the chipmunk thing is just my opinion, but omigod they look like chipmunks!)

Suzanne asked if I'd let her inject Perlane in the area near my upper cheekbones.  More volume there, causes softer laugh lines.  The added volume pulls your skin up where it used to be, before gravity took its evil toll.

I agreed to let Suzanne do the Perlane injection, but to be honest - it's something I never, in a million years, would have done on my own.

Here's my "before" photo.

In the above photo you see:

•  The scar on my lip which I usually photoshop out of pictures.  (I had melanoma surgery several years ago and the scar is my forever reminder to wear sunscreen!  I'm VERY self conscious about my lip scar!  It also gives me a crooked smile.  I am so FLAWED!)

•  A bumpy forehead - I had just had the Dysport injected in my forehead and I was a little bumpy/irritated from it.

•  My wrinkles.  I have a lot of them.  (Amazing since I'm only 24, don't ya think?)  Take a good look at how deep my "laugh lines" are.

Here's the photo Suzanne took of me right after she injected the Perlane:

* My hair is not actually yellow or green - weird lighting, I promise!

I'm not going to lie, the injection HURT!  (The needle started on the outside area of my upper cheek but then moved in towards my nose.  When it got close to my nose - sheeeet!)  At the time, I quite honestly was thinking, "WHY did I let her do this to me?"

BUT ... when it was over, it was over.  There was no lingering pain and the whole experience was over very quickly.

It's immediately apparent in my "after" photo the Perlane, injected high on my cheeks, made my laugh lines near my mouth appear softer.  Nothing was injected into my laugh lines.  I didn't look at these photos right off the bat, so at first I didn't think the Perlane made much of a difference.  Looking at before and after photos makes the change much more apparent.  

In the last ten days I've had one person ask me if I "had my eyes done" because I looked "so rested and refreshed."  I've also had three other comments from people telling me I look "great!" "younger" and "beautiful."  

None of the people making the comments knew I had volunteered for non-surgical cosmetic procedures recently. 

[By the way, my husband noticed absolutely nothing and I don't think he even knows I had anything done.  His not noticing doesn't mean anything much though because I've come home with giant purple streaks in my hair before and he didn't notice them either.)]

I still have wrinkles; I'm still far from perfect. 

I think, however, there are improvements.

Would I do it again?

Would I do it if I had to pay full price for these treatments?

What happens if you do all this stuff for ten years and then you stop?  Do you look like a wrinkled up prune over night?

These are the things I'm left to wonder about ....

What are your thoughts?

© Twenty Four At Heart

Just Call Me Barbie

Yesterday, I let my friend, Suzanne, at Pacific Center for Plastic Surgery (PCPS) do whatever she wanted to me.

Wait a minute, that sounds all sorts of inappropriate, doesn't it?

If you've been reading here for the last year you might remember I wrote a post about my hands last March.  My hands are my pet peeve about my body.  Those of you who have met me are probably wondering why I'm not more concerned about the wrinkles under my eyes, or the weight I've gained since my car accident, or the scars I've accumulated due to the eight resulting surgeries.

All of that stuff is bad too.

And yet?

I expect a few wrinkles as I get older and as much as I don't like them ... I've given birth to three kids, led a less-than-easy life, and I've earned them.  I know, better than anyone, what I've had to go through the last four and a half years since my accident and I refuse to beat myself up about not being the same physically as I was pre-accident.  Do I want to lose weight?  Yes.  Am I losing weight?  Yes - slowly, but surely.  I know how I got this less than perfect, very scarred up, body though and I'm willing to cut myself some slack.

My hands, however, look decades older than I really am.  At least, to me they do.  I may have fat to spare on the rest of my body, but I have bony hands.  They remind me of chicken bones with a layer of thin skin pulled over them.  I'm okay if my hands look my age, but I'm not okay with them looking like I'm a ninety year old woman when I'm really only twenty four.

Last March, I tried Sculptra injections for my hands.  You can read about my experience here.  I've heard and read, wonderful things about Sculptra - particularly when it's used on people's faces.  For my hands, however, it didn't work.  I was disappointed.  (By the way, the makers of Sculptra don't market it for hands, and now I know why.)

Every time I walk into PCPS it's pretty much an instant party.  I love the people there and I end up spending a lot of time hugging everyone and chatting and roaming the halls being nosy.  It's so fun!

Yesterday I told Suzanne (who is a nurse) I wanted her to do "something" to make my hands look better.

Guess what?

My hands look better!

Suzanne injected my hands with a product called Radiesse.  I had never heard of it before.  It's a "filler" which means it added volume to my bony hands so they look more normal.  I think my hands look 10-15 years younger now.  (By the way, I didn't have any age spots on my hands to start with, just very skeleton-like hands.)  Radiesse is also supposed to help your body create it's own collagen.  In other words, it gives you fake "volume" while your body begins creating its own, real, volume. 

My hands are sore, and bruised, from the injections.  So far, I'm thrilled though.  Instead of looking at my hands and thinking "chicken bones," I now look at them and think "hands."

It's amazing how such a little thing can make me feel so much better about myself.

In the interest of full disclosure, the Radiesse injections normally cost $600 each.  Suzanne used one and a half injections on each of my hands for a total of three.  Normally, three injections would cost $1,800.  I didn't have to pay $600 for each injection though, I only paid for the cost of the product.  I didn't promise to write about the product, or Suzanne, or Pacific Center for Plastic Surgery either.  But I am, because I know a lot of my readers are interested in topics like this.

Also?

I really do love the staff there.  They're my friends.

I could have left happy after the Radiesse injections, but Suzanne took a long look at me and said she wanted to do a few other things to me too, if I was interested.  She asked if I needed to be somewhere or if I had time to wait for her.  She went off to take care of a REAL patient, and I sat around chatting with everyone I encountered.  I was, admittedly, a little excited.

What would she do?

Would it hurt?

When Suzanne returned, I told her she could do whatever she wanted to me as long as she didn't give me "fish lips."  A lot of women here get fillers injected into their lips and I think it looks terrible.  

Suzanne ended up doing two other cosmetic procedures to me before I left.  

I'm going to tell you all about both of them, but not today.

Soon! 

© Twenty Four At Heart

Blonde Moments

Do you ever have a month day when you feel really stupid?

As if, perhaps, your IQ is dropping ten points at a time every half hour?

No?

Yesterday morning my iPhone arrived.

To know how excited I was, you'd have to understand how much I've come to hate my Blackberry.  I would have hugged the UPS man, but it wasn't my normal UPS man.  Instead, it was an unknown UPS man who might have been alarmed if I went flying into his arms when I opened the door.  (My regular UPS man is used to all sorts of unpredictable behavior on my part and wouldn't have blinked.)

After he left, I tore into the box, eager to play with my new toy.

The directions informed me all I needed to do was sync the phone to my iTunes library and the phone would be activated.

Go me!

The phone synced (apps loaded, etc.), but the phone itself did not activate.

Hmmmm.

I called Verizon for help.

A NICE man was instantly on the phone helping me.

I explained the problem to him.

"Hmmmm," he said.

"Exactly!" I replied.

It didn't take long for him to look up my account and say, "Ma'am?  You don't happen to be calling me from your Blackberry right now?"

"Yes, I am," I answered, amazed at how intuitive he was.  (I even forgave him for calling me ma'am - which I hate - because he was SO smart!)

"Well, ma'am you'll have to turn that phone OFF in order for your new phone to activate on that same phone number."

OH!

::  Light bulb!  ::

I've got to give him credit for not laughing at me, at least not while I was still on the line with him.

Ahem.

An hour later, I was in a waiting room biding my time until my annual mammogram.

"What a great opportunity to play with my new phone and learn all its tricks," I thought.

I clicked on one app, figured out how it worked, and then moved on to try another.

I got bored quickly and decided to play Angry Birds for awhile until it was my turn to go back for the test.

I've played Angry Birds many times on our iPad.

No big deal, right?

Except the next thing I knew Angry Bird music was BLARING in the (previously) perfectly quiet waiting room.  I didn't know how to silence it.  I didn't know how to turn the phone off.

I basically don't know how my own phone works at all.

And oh yes, you can laugh all you want.  Because you know what I did?  I sat on my phone to try and muffle the Angry Bird music.  Yes, I did.  Sitting on my brand new iPhone only accomplished one thing ...

It made it sound like my ass was singing.

I don't even have words to describe the looks I was getting from the other women in the waiting room.  The expression on the face of the nurse who came to call me back for the test was priceless.  As I rose to walk back with her, an iPhone appeared out of my ass with increasingly loud music.

I was so embarrassed.

I kept pushing and touching things on it and eventually it got quiet.  I'm not sure HOW I silenced it, but I did.

Really, you ought to just come walk around with me for a day.

I'm full of unexpected laughs and you'll never be bored.

© Twenty Four At Heart  

Tea Time

I'm wavering off my normal blogging path today to discuss tea.  

Ages ago, when I had only one reader, I wrote a post about tea. 

To be honest, I barely remember it myself.

I drink coffee every morning, but I like tea too.  The weather is so warm here, a lot of time tea means a glass of iced tea for lunch.  I'll often make a cup of hot tea when I'm writing or editing photos.

Tea has a lot of health benefits.  I think a lot of us know that, but how many of us really drink it (especially here in the United States)?  

I've always been a tea drinker, but I increased my tea consumption a lot after being diagnosed with melanoma (the deadliest form of skin cancer) several years back.  Tea, green tea in particular, is an "anti-cancer" beverage.  It has been over six years now, with no cancer recurrence.  I'm not sure if that can be completely attributed to my tea drinking or not, but I think the health benefits of tea are real.

I'm sure I don't drink as much tea as I'm "supposed to," but I know I drink more than most of my friends and family members.  My son, PR, loves tea too and drinks a cup most nights as he works on homework.

In recent months, I've been drinking less tea than normal.  Over the last two weeks, I got my butt kicked by The Plague.  On Friday, I went down to my favorite tea shop and said, "Help! Make me well!"

They fixed me a large cup of tea which was a blend of four different teas.  

The four teas were:  

•  Silver Yin Zhen Pearls which is a white tea.  It's supposed to detoxify your body and provide antioxidants.  I needed to be detoxified, did I mention I've had The Plague?

•  Gyokuro Imperial which is a green tea.  Green teas are rich in antioxidants, may prevent some cancers, and help boost the immune system.  My immune system was in need of some serious boosting.

•  Peppermint which helps with many ailments including sore throats, headaches, and pain.  I'm not a big fan of peppermint flavored things, but it's very healing.  (Also, I think most people like the flavor of peppermint - I'm just weird!)

•  Honeybush Vanilla which is an herbal tea (blend) rich in vitamins and antioxidants.

Three of the teas listed above steep together for 5 minutes.  The Gyokuro Imperial is added in for just the last 45 seconds of steeping time.  

I'm not kidding, I started feeling better that afternoon.  My sore throat decreased in severity, my coughing lessened ... I just felt better.

Coincidence?

Probably.

And yet, it re-motivated me to increase my tea consumption.

Did you know Rooibos tea can help with allergies and colds?

Or that Oolong tea boosts your metabolism, causes you to process carbohydrates faster, and may help with weight loss?  (By the way, Jasmine Oolong is one of my all-time favorite teas.)

Different teas have different health benefits.  I find the science behind tea fascinating.

I'm fortunate to have an amazing tea shop close by.  

The shop is also very expensive.  But?  I haven't found better tea, or a better selection of tea, anywhere.  When I buy tea, I store it in air-tight tins.  The tea stays fresh for a year if it's stored this way.  If you leave your tea sitting out, it won't stay fresh.

My husband cringes when he sees the receipts from the tea shop.  (He doesn't drink tea, ever, so the only thing my tea habit represents to him is less money.)

The positive?

A tin of tea lasts so long, I don't need to buy it very often.  I suppose, when you look at it THAT way, it isn't as expensive as it first appears.  I usually only stock up on teas once a year.

I ended up making a second trip back to the tea shop yesterday.  I decided to purchase the four "get well" teas they steeped together for me last Friday.  I want to have them here for myself, and my family, in the future.  Three of them are great preventative medicine.  I intend to drink them on a regular basis - either individually or steeped together.

This isn't a sponsored post, but I know inquiring minds will want to know.  I buy my tea at a local Teavana store.  I sometimes use a teapot, but I most often steep my tea in their Perfect TeaMaker which I love.  (It's also a great conversation starter - everyone who sees how it works falls in love with it.)  

I also use Teavana tins for storing my tea because I don't want to spend the money to buy high quality tea and have it lose its health benefits before I steep it.  (I buy the cheap Teavana tins vs. the more expensive decorative ones.)  When I run out of tea, I take my tins into the store to have them refilled.  This saves me from having to buy more tins for storage.

I look at my tea purchases as an investment in health.  Drinking tea is an investment in me.

And now, I'm curious.

Are you a tea drinker?

And if so, what's your favorite tea?

© Twenty Four At Heart 

The Battle of the Bulge

I mentioned a couple weeks ago, I've begun a diet.  I also mentioned I've lost about 12 pounds in the last three weeks.  Some of you have emailed me with questions about what I'm doing, what you should do, or asked me questions about dieting in general.

First of all, I'm not a nutritionist or dietitian.  I'm happy to share what I've been doing and what works for me, but everybody is different.  What works for me might not work for you.  I also want to say, upfront, I'm in no way advocating my way as the best way.  It is simply, what works for me.

Fad diets, extreme diets, don't work for me.  I don't think they work, long-term, for most people.

I started gaining weight after my car accident.  Surgery after surgery, and pain levels off the charts, are not conducive to keeping fit.  I tried dieting.  I tried exercising when I was physically able to.  Nothing seemed to work for me.

Last spring, I had a physical and an entire panel of blood tests.  I discovered I'm insulin resistant.  Once I understood what that meant, I knew what I needed to do differently to lose weight.

I used to have a "diet lunch" which sometimes consisted of a Weight Watchers pasta meal.  I thought I was doing the right thing because the calories were low, the portion was small, etc.  However, I wouldn't lose any weight.  Being insulin resistant means my body processes carbohydrates differently than most people.  My body turns carbs into instant fat.  (I'm summarizing in an unscientific fashion, but it's true.)

Basically, I've come to think of myself as being "allergic to carbs."

I cut my carbs way down and lost weight.  I kept off the weight I lost, and even lost more.  I felt great, my skin glowed ... yay me!

(And no, I did not do the "Atkins Diet.")

Then there was a Medical Screw-up of Unfathomable Proportions and I was put on a prolonged, high dose of steroids.

I blew up like a balloon.

Poof!  There were TWO of me in one body!

(Well, not really - but it felt like that.)

Now I'm off the steroids.  I'm trying to get my weight back to where it was.  Initially, my weight loss was pretty fast.  (The steroids made me gain a lot of water weight.)  Now, my body seems to be losing weight at a more normal rate.

I'm eating lean protein, keeping my carbs between 55-65 a day (which is really low), and taking in fewer calories than I'm burning.  It has only been three weeks, and I already feel so much better.

And no, I'm not hungry.

I "allow" myself one cocktail or glass of wine a week.  Technically, alcohol isn't on the diet I'm *supposed to be* following.  However, since I will need to eat this way for life I've made "realistic adjustments" to the diet.  I avoid super high calorie cocktails like margaritas.  (Which is not to say I never have them ... but I try to choose lower calorie drinks most of the time ... like maybe a straight shot of tequila instead?)  

If I'm absolutely craving something, I'll let myself have one bite of it. 

As an example, my son had cheesecake this week, three nights in a row.  (We were given an entire cheesecake as a gift.)  On the third night,  I took one small bite.  A small bite and a big piece are not the same thing, by the way.  Allowing myself a taste kept me from feeling deprived, or like I'll never be able to have a certain food again.  I don't, on the other hand, sneak bites of carb-laden foods every day.  They aren't good for me.  They make me feel bad.  And?  They make me fat.

Will there be days when I eat stuff I shouldn't?  Yes.

Will there be days when I drink more than I should?  Yes.

I'm just trying to do the best I can, the majority of days.

A typical breakfast might be an egg on half of an Oroweat whole wheat sandwich thin.  Or, perhaps, a vegie scramble made with one whole egg and two egg whites.  I actually make veggie/egg scrambles a lot because they fill me up and taste fantastic.  (My son, who needs to GAIN weight, begs me to make them for him too - they're great.)

What goes in my veggie scrambles?

Whatever I have handy.  Today it was this:

Cilantro, orange bell pepper, tomatoes, green onion ... a little fresh salsa.

Sometimes I'll have half a cup of lowfat cottage cheese for breakfast with a cup of sliced, fresh, strawberries on top.  I happen to love cottage cheese so I actually enjoy having a meal like that.

I try to eat frequently too, so my blood sugar stays level and I don't get hungry.

A typical day goes like this:

•  Breakfast

•  Mid-morning protein snack

•  Lunch

•  Mid-afternoon protein snack

•  Dinner

•  Evening protein snack

The snacks are often a nonfat yogurt or some other high protein food.  (I like the Trader Joes Organic Greek, Plain, Nonfat Yogurt.)  Sometimes my snack will be a handful of pistachio nuts or raw almonds.  (A handful equals 11 or 12 nuts, not 30 or 40.)  I love cheese so I might have a stick of nonfat string cheese, or a very small portion of "regular" cheese.

I usually limit myself to two fruit servings a day.  A giant apple counts as two servings, not one.  I often have a salad for lunch with some type of protein tossed into it ... tuna, a hard boiled egg, some turkey or chicken.  Sometimes I'll have a turkey burger (no bun), with a small salad and a piece of fruit.

At dinner I have whatever I'm making for my family minus the carbs.  If they're having pot roast and mashed potatoes with a side salad, I have pot roast and a salad.  I don't "love" potatoes or rice so it isn't hard for me.  I do eat more lean meat vs. fatty meat, but I don't limit myself to just chicken and fish either.  I avoid pasta, but I've never been a big pasta eater so that's not hard either.

Side note:  Paul Newman's Lite Italian Salad Dressing only has 1 carb per serving and my family doesn't even realize I'm serving them a "light" salad dressing.

I don't eat many pre-prepared diet foods.  I don't like them.  If you don't like the food you're eating, you won't continue to eat it.  A lot of "diet" foods are filled with chemicals and crap anyway.  I try to avoid them.

Also, exercise is imperative to being healthy.  If you want to avoid health problems, it's important to move your body.  Take a walk, go for a swim, find something you enjoy doing.  You don't have to suffer through hours in the gym if you hate it ... just move.  

Moving increases your metabolism which is always a good thing.

I have a slow, screwed-up, insulin-resistant, metabolism.  If I can lose weight, just about anyone can. 

Yes, even you!

© Twenty Four At Heart

 

Way Worse Than Whiskers!

You've heard me bitch and moan about my experience on Prednisone and all the bad side effects it caused.  Trust me, there are plenty of bad side effects to complain about.  I've mainly told you about the weight gain because it just seems so damn unfair to be put on a drug that makes you blow up like a balloon. 

There was another side effect to being on Prednisone which was really too horrible to even mention.  In fact, I was so humiliated by the experience, I vowed never to tell anyone what happened.  But ... now that I'm OFF the drug, I've decided I can share.

Are you ready for this?

I had a pubic hair grow right out of my face!

YES, I DID!!

It wasn't the "facial fuzz" many women get as they hit their forties, and it wasn't even a long, normal, type of hair.

It was a damn pubic hair growing out of my cheek.  (The upper cheek on my face, to be specific.)

You can imagine my horror!

I get brazilian bikini waxes so I don't have hair down there, let alone sprouting right under my eyeballs.

One day, just a couple weeks ago, I happened to glance in a magnifying mirror.  I use the magnifying mirror for applying makeup.  The only makeup I wear on a daily basis is mascara so I don't spend much time looking in this particular mirror ... but there I was checking myself out.  (I should also mention I have pretty bad eyesight so the only time I really know what I look like is if I happen to glance in this particular mirror.)

All of a sudden, I gasped out loud and exclaimed, "No!!"

But?

YES!

There was a dark, thick, wiry, curly, pubic hair ... about AN INCH AND A HALF LONG coming out of my face.  (Below my eye, up high on my cheekbone!)

I swear, it grew over night.  I'm quite sure it hadn't been there the day before.  Even with my imperfect eyesight, surely I would have noticed a long black hair growing out of my cheek?

"How is that possible?" my stunned brain wondered.

I have small blond hairs on my arms and legs ....

I don't have big, thick, wiry, curly, black hair on my body anywhere.

There are no words to describe the alarm, the disgust, the abject terror, I experienced in those first few seconds.

"Steroids!  Prednisone!" my inner voice screamed.

"Dammit!" I muttered out loud.  

It didn't take me more than two seconds to pluck that pubic hair right out of my face.  I'm all about aging gracefully, and taking meds when the doc insists on them.  I will not, however,  have my face turn into an outlet for anatomically confused pubes.

I was, of course, immediately terrified pubic hairs would suddenly start sprouting all over my face - perhaps over my entire body.  What if I suddenly had pubic hairs growing out of my ears?

Aaack!

Every day since, I've looked in the magnifying mirror ... wondering what I might find.

Mirror, mirror on the wall ...

I'm happy to report, I haven't had a single pubic hair grow out of my face since.

© Twenty Four At Heart

Losing The Prednisone Fat

I know you're all dying to hear more about some of my escapades at the Rose Parade, and I do have more to share with you.  I know you especially want to hear about the very obnoxious woman seated behind me and her obnoxious brat child and what I said to them her.  Also?  I might have broken into a *real* building bathroom in a successful attempt to boycott the porta potties.  (And yes, I do mean that in the "breaking and entering" sense.)

I will do anything to avoid peeing in a porta potty.

See what exciting stories you have to look forward to? 

But ...

My fat needs to take priority today.

Prednisone is the devil's drug; the side effects are numerous and horrible.  As most of you already know, I had to go on a high dose of it for an extended time period due to a, very avoidable, allergic reaction.  While I was on The Devil's Drug, I ate everything in sight.  It made me ravenous ... RAVENOUS!  

I'm insulin resistant, and gain weight easily, so The Prednisone Ordeal was a nightmare for me.  In addition, I couldn't exercise post-surgery.  The combination of all these factors was disastrous for my weight.

Now, however, I'm off the evil fat-producing drug.  I will be allowed to exercise in a little less than three more weeks.  The holidays are over too, so it's time to begin losing the Prednisone Fat.

Some of you might be on post-holiday diets?

I'm on a post-Prednisone diet.

What diet, exactly, am I doing?

Well, beginning today, I'm back on Lindora.  My doctor had recommended Lindora to me when I first discovered I was insulin resistant.  I lost weight on their program because it's very compatible with my body chemistry.  I continued to keep the weight off, and even lost more, once I completed their program.  Their "program" is basically a doctor supervised, low carb, high (lean) protein diet.  It's perfect for my metabolism. 

And no, I'm not saying it's perfect for YOU, or anyone else.  It works for me and my pain in the ass metabolism though.  It's basically the way I need to eat all the time in order to stay healthy.

I felt really good physically (except for my arm) before The Prednisone Ordeal.  My skin looked good too.  I wasn't anorexic-skinny by any means, but I felt fit.  I had a lot of energy.

Since Surgery #7 and especially Surgery #8, with its resulting Prednisone Ordeal, I've felt like a slug.  My energy is lacking, the Prednisone made my skin look horrible, although it has improved recently.  Blah, blah, blah ....

I'm looking forward to feeling good again.

The first few days I will probably experience a carb crash.  You might want to steer clear of me in case I turn into an irritable bitch.  If I write a blog post ranting about gnomes and/or Briefcase you'll know why.

I'm not saying Briefcase IS a gnome.  

Well, I'm not saying that yet.  

I might say something like that in a day or two while I'm irritable transitioning my diet.

I'll be hungry too until my body adapts to my pre-Prednisone diet.  It takes about three days to fully acclimate, or at least it did for me when I began the program initially.  After that point, I should feel great.

And hopefully start getting less-fat.

Damn, that Prednisone!

* Also, if any of you are on a post holiday diet - I'd love to hear about it.  There's encouragement in numbers!  *

© Twenty Four At Heart

I Must Be Getting Old

When I was in high school I used to volunteer as a worker on the floats for the Rose Parade.  I would volunteer for days at a time and glue flowers, flower petals, and other plant material on the floats.  I came home with ruined clothes and glue and seeds stuck in my hair.  In addition, I would work for about 24 hours straight the day before the parade, spending New Year's Eve right there - decorating the floats.

(Oh sure, sometimes we'd sneak a little alcohol in too; we thought we were clever and sneaky teenagers!)

After working all night long on a float, I'd stay and watch the parade once it started.  I'd eventually wander home sometime in the afternoon for a nap.

Yesterday, I woke up at 4 a.m. to make the trip from Orange County to Pasadena to watch the parade.

As you can see from the above photo, it was a picture perfect day.

But waking at 4 a.m?

It nearly killed me.

I didn't move off the couch all afternoon.

I think I've gotten old .....

Zzzzzzzz!

© Twenty Four At Heart

2011 - Wow!

I can't believe it's already 2011.  How did that happen so fast?

One minute I was on the beach taking a few photos, and the next it was 2011!

I'm (hopefully) at the Rose Parade and touring the floats today.  Look for me if you watch the parade on TV.  I'll be the one wearing four hundred layers of clothes because I can't stand being cold.  And yes, it IS supposed to be cold for the parade.  I'm borrowing things like mittens and hats for the event.

I'll be back to tell you about it soon.  Hopefully I'll come away with a few good photos to share.

In the meantime, I wish you a very healthy, happy, New Year!

© Twenty Four At Heart

Whoa! I'm 24 AGAIN!

Yay!

Happy 24th birthday to me once again!

I'm, hopefully, at a spa getting wrapped up in eucalyptus leaves and rubbed with warm oil while you're reading this.  (Or am I doing laundry?  Take your pick!)

I had all these wonderful ideas for a post today, but then I kept dismissing them as not being appropriate for my 24th birthday.

I mean, what if my parents stop in to wish me a happy birthday and I've chosen to do a post about the sex toys random strangers mail me?  And what if I even listed the names I've chosen to give each particular toy ....  

Do you think they'd understand?

Yes, people HAVE sent me sex toys and no, I'm not quite sure why.  I'm not quite sure why I name them either, except there are now so many of them - how else would I keep track of them?

Perhaps readers send me sex toys because I mention them from time to time in my posts so they think I need MORE sex toys.

(Because five dildos is never enough!)

Someone even gave me a vibrating ring.  Yeah, like a ring you wear on your finger.  It's bright orange.  I have a few questions about that particular toy, but let's not get into them right now.

If I die in surgery tomorrow someone is going to find an entire cabinet of sex toys and I don't want to be remembered for them.

I haven't even tried most of them yet!

Now, LOOK what's happened!

This has turned into a post about not writing a post about sex toys.

How did that happen?

I might as well have just written about the damn sex toys in the first place.

In addition, apparently I was politically incorrect yesterday.

(Don't act so surprised.)

There's been drama and scandal in the blogosphere recently.  

Shocking, I know!

A popular, married, male blogger has been surreptitiously sending female bloggers his penis.

* Ahem *

I mean, photos of his penis - via email/text.

Sexual harassment of any sort is not something to laugh about, and yet - way too many funny one liners keep popping into my head.  

I don't think what this blogger did (purportedly to multiple women) is at all funny.  In fact, I think the man involved is in strong need of some serious psychiatric care if the allegations are as they've been presented.

I'm qualifying my statements because I wasn't there and I, personally, haven't received this particular man's penis wrapped up in a bow (or email) in my inbox.

And yet, I still have funny (to me) one liners cursing through my brain.  I can't make them stop, but I have managed to keep myself from saying them out loud.  

So far.

In the midst of all this blogging drama, and the concentrated effort on my part to bite my tongue and not let loose with the one-liners I SO want to let loose with ...

I, unthinkingly, and with ill timing - posted a photo on twitter yesterday.  (Yes, right in the middle of all the penis drama.  My timing really was unintentional.)  

The tweet and photo:

I originally took this to be artistic, but instead it just looks phallic. #PhotographyFail 

I wasn't trying to make light of The Penis Controversy.  I think all the penis talk just colored my view of the photos I was editing at the time.

Or maybe the photo really does look like one gigantic penis?

What do you think?

(Whoa!  I just wrote a birthday post which had nothing to do with birthdays and at the same time I managed to mention sex toys and penises several times.  I.Am.Amazing!) 

© Twenty Four At Heart

Birthday Weekend

Tomorrow I turn 100 24, but Briefcase and I celebrated early, over last weekend.

On Saturday, we drove down to Laguna Beach.  

We heard the weather would be cold and there was the possibility of rain.  I dressed in jeans and a bulky sweatshirt.  The weather reports were wrong, it was perfect in Laguna.  I was dressed way too warm.

Here's an unedited photo taken with my Blackberry right when we arrived.

(My boobs aren't as big as they appear in the above photo and neither is the rest of my body - I hope!)

Laguna is a frequent hangout for us because it's close.  It's also beautiful.  

And artsy.  And beautiful.  And fun.  And beautiful.

Briefcase had made a reservation at one of my favorite hotels, the Surf and Sand Resort.

(I'll tell you more about the resort in an upcoming post.) 

We walked around town for awhile.  We also walked on the beach for a long time.  We saw a lot of dolphins jumping and playing in the ocean.  I never grow tired of watching the dolphins.  They always make me happy.

We were getting pretty hot so we stopped into Hotel Laguna for a drink.  We like Hotel Laguna because they have service on a deck with a great view overlooking the beach.

I'm not normally much of a beer drinker, but I joined Briefcase for a Blue Moon.

After enjoying our drinks we weaved walked back to the Surf and Sand to watch the sunset from our balcony. 

It was an amazing sunset.  The above photo is the view straight out from our room.  You can see Catalina Island on the horizon.  

I took around 1,000 photos over the weekend and a lot of them were of the sun setting.  It was like watching a spectacular light show with ever changing colors.  I couldn't stop clicking the shutter.

Once the sun had disappeared we cleaned up and went into town for dinner.  It was a fantastic day.  I'll share more with you in future posts because - oh, it was so much fun!

I had a wonderful pre-birthday weekend.  It was also a great distraction from my upcoming surgery this Wednesday.   (Aaack!)

© Twenty Four At Heart

Um, Hello?

So, I was staring at my blank laptop screen thinking to myself, "Do I tell my readers friends about THIS or do I tell them about THAT today?  Or maybe I should come right out and tell them THE STORY ABOUT YOU KNOW WHAT instead?"

The thing is, I'm not good at bluffing my way through anything.

My stomach is in knots.

Knots!

The situation is this:

1)  I've been having a really bad pain flare-up.  Except, I don't know if you call it a "flare-up" when my arm/shoulder/adjoining parts have hurt like hell ever since the removal of my temporary arm implant.  It has NOT been fun.  

I guess my body didn't like that whole implant in/implant out of my arm process.  The positive aspect of all this pain is it makes me feel quite sure I want to go through with Surgery #8.  If my arm was feeling better, I'd probably be having a zillion doubts about the surgery.

2)  I normally, no matter what, only allow myself (at most) one pain pill a day.  If I took them whenever I'm hurting I'd have become addicted a long time ago.  The only exceptions (in my imaginary book of pain med rules) are right after surgeries or when I get to the point where I feel like throwing things because I'm literally "losing it" from pain.  (Like when I got back from Boston last summer - ugh!)  

By the way, these are my personal rules, not my doctor's.  He's quite comfortable with me taking more pain meds than I do, but I'm not comfortable with it.  This last week I've been taking TWO pain pills a day ... still not a lot by my doctor's standards but it's enough to mess with my concentration for writing.

3)  Next Tuesday is my 24th birthday, again.  This upcoming birthday is contributing to the knots in my stomach.  I'm not a big fan of my own birthdays.  I usually host a giveaway on my birthday, but this year I have to postpone the giveaway.

4)  The above photo is not an intentional cleavage shot.  It's not easy to take your own photo with one working arm.  It's also not easy for me to NOT have cleavage.  I needed a little photoshop help with the eye bags wrinkles in celebration of my almost 24th birthday.  Photoshop is cheaper than plastic surgery, I suppose.

5)  In case Halloween weekend wasn't already busy enough, Briefcase has told me he's whisking me away on Saturday night as an early birthday celebration.  I'll tell you (almost) all about it next week.  *wink*

6)  My birthday is next TUESDAY and my surgery is at 6 a.m. on WEDNESDAY.  (Stomach knots, stomach knots .... aaack!)  And yes, the surgery is the reason why I'm postponing my usual birthday giveaway.  I'll be in no shape to pick a winner or get a prize/gift out.

7)  The holidays are really (!!) important to me and with Surgery #8, and a two month recovery, ahead of me I'm already having some a lot of anxiety about how I'm going to do everything this year.  (stomach knots!)

8)  I'm not looking forward to putting my life on hold again due to another surgery.  I wouldn't be going forward with the whole thing if I didn't believe the outcome will be positive, but still ....  I have to do this again??  Dread!  (stomach knots, stomach knots!!)

9)  I'd be lying if I didn't admit I'm scared.  I've been to hell before, and I don't want to go back.  I don't think (??) this surgery will be as bad as what I've gone through in the past, but my doctor has led me to believe it isn't going to be easy.  (So many stomach knots!)

10)  I apologize for whining and sharing all my anxieties with you.  Thank you for letting me vent.  I know, in my brain, everything will be fine.  My doctor is ranked #1 in the world for this procedure.  I couldn't be in better hands.  Unfortunately, knowing he's a great doctor doesn't make the fear and anxiety go away.  (I think a lot of the emotions involved are tied to the not-so-distant memories of the last seven surgeries!)

P.S.  Yesterday I got a pre-surgery pedicure and my toenails are now polished with OPI's William Tell Me About It.  I love it!  Now, I just need to find panties to match so I don't clash on surgery day!  (Do other people think about things like panty/toenail polish clashing for surgeries??)

P.P.S.  Sorry for overdoing the parentheses and exclamation points and blah, blah, blahing in this post!!  (( !! ?? ))

P.P.P.S.  I hope everyone has a safe and fun Halloween weekend!

© Twenty Four At Heart

Romeo, Oh Romeo!

I've fallen in love.  

Well, maybe it isn't really love - but who cares?

And before I tell you this story, I want you to know I can be a cougar in my own mind if I want to.  Especially after a week like this one.

During the hour before my surgery I was hanging out on a gurney in my sexy hospital gown, with my granny panties on, and my hair tucked into a too-hawt-to-handle hospital cap on my head.  After a night of no sleep, I was definitely looking my most awesome best.

A man in surgical scrubs approached me, looked me in the eyes with the sexiest green, smoky, bedroom eyes I've ever seen and said, "Hi.  I'm Romeo and I'll be the one turning you on."

"Promise?!" I laughed, unable to tear my eyes away from the gorgeous hunk of Italian man in front of me.

He blushed.

I sighed.

And no, his name isn't REALLY Romeo ... but it might as well be.  (And the above photo isn't really him either - he is SO much hotter!)

We all have our "types," right?  You know, a physical LOOK that makes our heart pitter patter and our mouths drool.

Romeo is IT for me.

Tall, dark, handsome ... with dark curls surrounding his rugged, sexy, face.  He has green, intense, eyes that seem to smolder with a glance.  He looks at ease with his nice build ... muscular, but not muscle-bound.

Romeo has lots and lots of sexiness wrapped up into one drool-worthy package.

Yum.

Never mind, Romeo is way too young for me - 

Romeo is cougar-fantasy material and that is all that really matters.

Have I mentioned there was a roomful of people in the operating room with me the other day?

Two surgeons, numerous nurses, an anesthesiologist, other confusing I-don't-know-who-they-were people, and two men from the company that makes the neurostimulator.

Romeo was one of the people in the operating room with me.

You know what that means?

Romeo has already seen me buck naked except for my sexy granny panties.

Romeo works as a stimulator expert.

I kid you not ... Romeo is an official Expert Stimulator.

Romeo faithfully calls me at home every night to ask how I'm feeling.

We talk about pulsing sensations and how many batteries I might want to take care of my needs.

Romeo not only told me he would turn me on, he actually did!  

Quite successfully too.

"You made me tingly," I told him yesterday.

"Do you want more?" he asked.

""Yes!" I answered eagerly .......

And that is exactly what my time with Romeo is like.

Sometimes I want to giggle and giggle because - oh, the jokes and innuendos!

Romeo has told me I'm "cute" and that I "have a great laugh."  Clearly, that means we will run away together and spend our lives in green-smoky-eyed bliss.

Clearly.

Yesterday, I spent close to two hours with Romeo.  He turned me on repeatedly.  Sometimes the feelings were more intense; sometimes the feelings built slowly.  Once or twice, things got a little more intense than I could handle.

"Do you want me to slow down?" he asked.

"Maybe just a little," I answered.

"Are you sore?" he answered, concerned.

"No, it's okay.  I like it," I reassured him.

Today, Romeo and I are getting together again.  This time he said he'd show me three NEW ways to be turned on.

"I can make you feel all different types of sensations," he confided.

Romeo, Oh Romeo ....

© Twenty Four At Heart

What I Learned While In The South

I spent the last few days in the south visiting my son's college.  It was a whirlwind, extremely action-packed, trip.  I was even asked to be Frat Photographer for a busy weekend of fraternity events.  Who am I to say no to a bunch of Frat Boys decked out in collared shirts and ties?

As background, I've spent very little time in the south so everything there is a novelty to me.  In addition, when I was in college, I went to UC Santa Barbara.  My ex-campus sits on a cliff overlooking the ocean - a completely different type of campus life than my son's.  (As an example, UCSB has no football team, but they do have an exceptional surf team.)  The Greek life at UCSB was almost non-existent when I was a student there.  Fraternity life is, therefore, not something I've been exposed to.

The last few days, along with photographing campus and fraternity life, I was also busy experiencing as much of my surroundings as possible.  Here are some of my random thoughts and observations (some of them were jotted down as I had them):

•  Sitting next to a sick, sneezing, person is inevitable on an all day flight.  And yes, you will come home with a cold as a result.

•  I like collard greens, but do they always have so much salt on them?

•  I do NOT like grits - at all.

•  If you take a few college boys out to dinner you will be astonished at the amount of food consumed.

•  Four boys - TEN baskets of homemade rolls before dinner!

•  I have not outgrown beer pong, but I still don't care for beer bongs.

•  People in the south are SO nice!

•  I think I would have a lot more women friends if I lived in the South vs. The OC.

•  Frat boys are cute, and - very polite ... at least, to me.

•  I prefer my tea unsweetened.  I'm sorry.

•  Tailgating at college football games is a lot of fun.

•  Frat houses are disgusting even when they've been "cleaned up" just for your arrival.

•  There aren't a lot of botoxed and plastic people in the south.  People are so real.  So refreshing!

•  When a fraternity buys wine as a special treat, in anticipation of your arrival, you will force yourself to choke it down even though it's being poured from a bag.

•  With enough time, you won't care what the wine tastes like.

•  Your head WILL hurt from drinking bagged wine the next day.

•  Never use a bathroom in a fraternity.  (Not even the woman's bathroom.)

•  Hearing frat boys talk about their love/sex lives will make you giggle and giggle, because - really?

•  My body is not used to fried food and it makes me feel sick.

•  There are some damn smart people in college these days.  I was impressed!

•  Your toes will freeze at night if you wear flip flops to the football game.

•  You will be the only one in the entire, gigantic, football stadium wearing flip-flops.

•  College girls are wearing lots of short dresses/skirts and cowboy boots in the south.

•  College girls are AFTER the frat boys!

•  I could live on biscuits every morning for breakfast.  Yum!

•  Trees, trees, and MORE trees!  Beautiful!

•  I think it's "freezing" when the weather is in the 60's, but everyone there told me it was an amazing, warm, fall day.

•  I like the feeling of "brisk" evenings.  It feels very fall-ish.

•  Trees are beginning to "turn" in the south.  I wish I could come back in a couple weeks and see them at their prettiest.

•  Frat parties?  Are so ... frat party-ish.  And yes, I really DID attend one for several hours!

•  For the return flight home I was seated by an ahem-er.  Ahem!  Ahem!  Four and a half hours of ahem-ing!  It was BRUTAL.

•  On the other side of me, a man took his shoes off for the entire flight.  His feet stunk!

•  I hate flying!

•  It never gets easier to say good-bye to your kids. 

•  * Sob! *

© Twenty Four At Heart

An Emptier Nest

* I've been out of state for a few days and just returned last night.  In fact, I might still be sleeping as you read this.  I pre-scheduled this post to publish today.  It's a "guest post" I wrote for another website recently.  An online magazine contacted me after seeing this post and asked if I could write an "empty nest" post for their use.  I did.  It published last week, and today it's here for you. *

The other day I found myself alone in my house.

Alone.

I don't think I've been alone in over twenty one years.

There was quiet.  There was silence.  There was nothing but the soft sound of wind chimes singing outdoors.

I felt a moment of glee.  

"Finally!"

I felt a moment of despair.

"They're gone!"

In fact, I also felt a little puzzled.

"What do I do now?"

I suppose I'm an "emptier nester" now that two of my three children have left for college.  The nest isn't completely empty yet, but considering the busy schedule of my youngest teen - it almost is.

I thought back to the many busy, hectic, days when I had dreamed of just one moment to myself.  I remembered back to the "baby years" when an opportunity to take a shower, or use the bathroom with the door closed, was a triumph in my day.  There were years, and years, of kid activities filling my every waking moment.

I also reminisced about a house filled with laughter and noise.  Chubby fingers clinged to me and baby giggles filled the house.  Siblings argued, neighbor children seemed to be ringing the doorbell incessantly, and pancakes were made into shapes like dinosaurs.

"What is it I wanted to do?  What is it I never had time for?" I questioned.

My cell phone rang then.  It was a friend I hadn't seen in over a year.  She wanted to set up a time together.  "I have time!" I thought, excitedly.  We scheduled a date for the following week.  I smiled to myself, realizing I am at the verge of something new.  There will be time for my friends, there will be time for my interests and my activities.

I sat down and began The List.  

The List went on and on and, in fact - I will probably add on to The List endlessly in the future.

Written on The List are books I've been meaning to read.  

Written on The List are places I've been meaning to visit, or re-visit, for a long time.  Friends I've had little, or no, time for are itemized one by one.  There are exclamation points by some of their names ... I am THAT excited to reconnect with them.

There are neglected hobbies recorded too.  There's also an inventory of topics I'm interested in, but have had no time to delve into learning more about.  

"I'll have time for my BRAIN!" I thought, smiling, as I looked at some of the more intellectual pursuits on The List.

"I'll have time for my BODY!" I realized as I re-read some of the more athletic items on The List.

"I'll have time to be CREATIVE again!" I mused as I eyed my neglected moleskin journals and camera gear.

A flood of ideas began rushing to my mind.

"Concerts!  Classes!  Photography!  Travel!  I can, I can, I can ...."

The other day I found myself.

Alone in my house ....

© Twenty Four At Heart 

I've Been Inked!

*  I'm still taking submissions in the name contest going on here.  There are some great potential names in the running.  A $100 Amazon gift card is up for grabs!  *

Yesterday I had an appointment to get my first-ever tattoo.

Yes, I did - at the ripe old age of 24!

I was excited, and nervous, but mainly excited.  Of course, I brought my point and shoot camera with me.

I recently met someone who had fantastic tattoos (amazing artwork).  I asked lots of questions and was given a referral to Vance Freeman.  

I've been thinking about a tattoo for over a year now.  I knew I needed to wait until I was out of the pool for awhile because swimming with a new tattoo is a not advised.  Due to all the stuff going on with my arm, I'm not going to be allowed to swim for a couple months.  Now seemed like the perfect time.

Vance works at True at Heart Tattoo in Lake Forest.  Here's a photo of Vance sketching out my soon-to-be tattoo:

I like Vance.  I like him a lot.  If you're in Orange County and you want a tattoo, I highly recommend Vance.  (You can find him, and see examples of his work, on Facebook under his full name Vance Freeman.)

Here's a photo of the needles and ink and ... stuff:

I was worried about the pain.  I've had quite enough pain in my life.  It didn't hurt much.  I don't know if it's because I'm used to megadoses of pain, or what.  I was happy to find it easily tolerable.  (It also helped that my friend Nike hung out with me a good deal of the time and distracted me!)

My tattoo is on the inside of my left leg just above my ankle.

I chose the name of this blog for a lot of reasons that are very personal to me.  For those same reasons, I chose the design of my tattoo.  (What I'm trying to say is my tattoo design is not based on my blog name, but my blog name and my tattoo were both chosen for the same reason.)

© Twenty Four At Heart

Love Means

I look back at my life, at the people and places I've loved, and it seems, time and time again, love means letting go.

I remember, vividly, letting go of my mother's hand, at age four, when I began kindergarten.  I still remember the bittersweet expectation of exciting things ahead of me, and the knowledge things would never again be the same.  The scent of crayons and play-doh hung in the air and I knew right then, by releasing her hand, I was letting go.

A few years later, a best friend moved hundreds of miles away.  We swore we'd stay in touch and be best friends forever.  Of course, we didn't.  I still think of her now and then, all these years later.  I wonder if she's led a happy life.  I wonder if she remembers me at all.  It was my first experience at letting go of a much loved friend.

Sadly - only a year later - one of my first school crushes died of a childhood disease.  He was nine.  I remember shedding tears over the loss of my "boyfriend."  Other children and parents cried with me.  Once again, I learned the very difficult, heartbreaking, lesson of loving and letting go.

Like everyone, I've had the heartbreak of lost friendships.  My best friend of several years got lost in a world of drugs and gangs in high school.  We parted ways and I watched helplessly as her life crumbled around her.  

And crumble it did ... ending with a suicide.

There was nothing I could do.

In my twenties, a time of transitions, there were good friends, and lovers, who eventually all moved on with their lives.  

As I moved on with mine.

Eventually I found myself with a husband, a family, and a new set of friends.

I gave birth to a little girl.  A few years later, I held her hand as I walked her to her first day of kindergarten.  She looked at me with the bittersweet expectation of exciting things ahead of her, and the knowledge things would never again be the same. The scent of crayons and play-doh hung in the air and I knew right then, by releasing her hand, I was letting go. 

Her first day of kindergarten was followed, eventually, by those of her two brothers.  Our family had grown.

The years went by in a blur of school, and sports, and activities, and busyness.

Time and again, throughout it all, I held their hands, hugged them, and encouraged them to chase their dreams.

This month my two oldest children left home for colleges over 3,000 miles away.  As they left, they looked at me with the bittersweet expectation of exciting things ahead of them and the knowledge things would never again be the same.  

As we said our good-byes, I hugged them once again.  I cried tears of pride, and sadness, and excitement for the lives they have ahead of them.

It seems to me ...

Love means letting go.

© Twenty Four At Heart

My Latest Project

Today's subject is outside the realm of my normal blogging material, but I'm going to share it anyway.

Wait ...

Do I ever have normal blogging material?

I think not.

In which case ... it doesn't really matter, does it?

I'm in the midst of an emotional two weeks right now.

We put my son on a plane for college last Saturday.  I bawled, and bawled, and bawled.

This is his second year in college.  You'd think I'd be used to saying good-bye, but if you're a parent who has ever sent your kid to live 3,000 miles away, you know there is no such thing as getting used to it.  My son stored most of his belongings with college friends prior to summer break so he didn't need us to fly back with him and help him get settled this year.

My daughter, however, will be departing this week to ALSO live 3,000 miles away for school.  Of course, she's going to be in an entirely different state than my son because they have to make things as difficult and as expensive for their parents as possible.  I will be taking my youngest son (still at home) back east later this week to help get her moved into her apartment.  I will do the supervising and my fifteen year old son will do the lifting.

What?

I only have one working arm.

Having two kids move to the other side of the country within a ten day time span has been emotional chaos, plain and simple.

Two years ago, with the best of intentions, I bought a family recipe book for my daughter.  She was in her first college apartment and the timing seemed appropriate for a gift related to cooking.

It's a beautiful book.  You're supposed to fill it up with family recipes to share with those you love.

Hmmm ... I see nothing in the above photo about eating a low-carb diet?

This particular book came with beautiful recipe cards, lined pages, and tab dividers to make it easy to compile.

My only complaint about the book I chose, is there are simply not enough pages in it.  Yesterday, I ordered a few sets of page refills so I'll be able to add more recipes in the future.

Many years ago, my mom gave me a similar book and I treasure it to this day.  I love that the recipes are in her handwriting.  I love the time she took to put the book together for me.  The book itself, makes me feel cherished.  I also use it more than any other cookbook I've ever owned.  The recipes are full of comfort and familiarity, warmth and love.

And yet ...

The book I bought for my own daughter has sat here, untouched, for two years.

Once I purchased the book, I quickly realized the amount of writing that would be involved.  I wanted to write the recipes in my own handwriting, as my mother did for me, not type them.  It's hard to explain, but seeing the recipes in my mom's handwriting is almost like hearing her speak.  I wanted to give the same gift to my daughter.

I quickly realized the project would involve more than my injured arm was capable of at the time.  I've learned to do many things left-handed since my accident, but writing is not one of them.  Although my right hand is not damaged, it takes arm-power to move my hand for any length of time.  I'm in very short supply of arm power.

In fact, I think it would be accurate to say I have NO arm power.

My daughter's cookbook has been left abandoned, filling me with the guilt of unfulfilled promises.

She leaves this week.

I decided I would get the book done prior to her departure come hell or high water.  I set a goal to work on the book every day until she leaves.  I even bought an archival quality, waterproof, fade proof, non-bleeding (all that!!) pen and I'm working diligently on her recipe book.  I'm slowly making progress, despite taking frequent breaks whenever my arm rebels.

I hope someday this cookbook will mean as much to her as the one from my mother now means to me.

This book is truly a labor of love.

© Twenty Four At Heart

My Past

Yesterday was a long, emotional, day.

This is the house I lived in until I was 17 and left for college:

 

It's tucked up in the foothills above Los Angeles.  

 

The house doesn't look exactly the same now, of course, but I was tempted to walk right in the front door anyway.

I didn't.

I stopped by my elementary school.  There was a man standing outside and he asked me all sorts of questions.  He was curious, and cautious ... and maybe just nosy?  

"Your photos aren't going to end up on that innernetzz, are they?" he asked after getting my entire life's history.  

"That Facebook thing or something like that?" he inquired.

"No," I lied answered.

I admit, I wanted to laugh when he asked me that. 

Me?

Put a photo on "that innernetzz"????

Never!

It was really strange, I seemed to attract attention everywhere I went.  I think people see a professional looking camera and instantly assume "journalist."

The old neighborhood looks pretty much the same:

I had a sudden realization as to why I settled in my current home with mountains, once again, looming behind me.  Mountains feel like home.  Some parts of my childhood are etched into my soul.

I stopped by my old middle school and high school also, but I won't bore you with those photos.  

I also visited the (very) cute town of Montrose.  When I was a kid it was a big deal to go to the movies in Montrose.  The theater is long gone, but many of the businesses remain the same.

 

The day was a jumble of memories leaping out at me.  Some of them hurt, some of them made me smile, and some of them were completely unexpected.

There were a few demons to face also, but I'm not sure I did.  I think, maybe, I just averted my eyes and thoughts from the scary places they still hide.  

I suppose life sometimes is best taken in baby steps.

Did I mention, Montrose is utterly charming?

© Twenty Four At Heart 

Stepping Back in Time

Deep breath!

Today I'm not here.

Instead I'm visiting a small community north of Los Angeles.  It's a community nestled in the foothills near the Angeles National Forest.

I'm stepping back in time to visit the place where I grew up.

In reality, it's only about seventy miles from where I live now.  

In L.A. drive time that means an hour and a half ... or much, much, longer.

In my mind, it could not be further away.

For many of you, a day-trip like this would be no big deal.

I haven't been back to visit the home I grew up in for over twenty years.

There are reasons I haven't been back to visit.

My body tenses at the thought of returning and my stomach clenches in knots.

For me, this is a Very.Big.Deal.

It is something I've been saying I would do, but putting off, for several years.

Logically, I know there are many good memories left behind.

But there are painful ones also ... very painful ones.

Why is it the painful memories always supercede the positive ones?

I left for college when I was 17, and I never came back.

Oh, I came back to my family (they moved), but I never came back to the place.

I've never gone to any of my high school reunions.

I, intentionally, never listed my high school on Facebook so there would be no chance of anyone from my past finding me.

I don't want to be found.

I've worked very hard not to be reminded of the past.

I've stayed in touch with exactly *one* person I knew in high school.

I left, and I made a new life.

No regrets, no looking back ....

Except, today, this is something I know I need to do.

I'm not sure why, but I know I need to go back ....

I'm scared ...

In fact, I'm terrified.

Have you ever faced down painful memories from your past?

© Twenty Four At Heart

I Might Be a Little Flaky

If you've been reading here for any length of time you know I'm friends with some great people at Pacific Center for Plastic Surgery in Huntington and Newport Beach.

And by friends, I mean just that.  I love the people there and unless they're really good at faking it, I think they like me too.  

(Can you imagine, there are people who actually LIKE me?)

Several months ago, the PCPS aesthetician, Pam, offered to let me try some of her services.

I've mentioned before, I'm not very girly.

I don't get facials, I don't really do anything, other than get my hair done every six weeks and throw on some mascara each morning.  I told Pam I wouldn't even know what to try.  She suggested I get a Vitalize Peel.

"A what?" I asked.

Pam went on to explain some stuff I didn't really grasp and then mentioned the peel would make me "flaky" for a few days after I had it.

I've been busy.  Also, I didn't want to be "flaky" for my daughter's graduation or my anniversary weekend.

Yesterday, however, I finally paid a visit to Pam for a complimentary Vitalize Peel.  (Which, by the way, I didn't realize would be complimentary - thank you SO much Pam!)

For those of you who are interested, a Vitalize Peel normally costs $175.

First of all, let me explain the Vitalize Peel is a a simple aesthetician procedure which only takes about 20 minutes.  This is not one of those burn the skin off your face, watch it ooze and scab for a few weeks and then hope your skin grows back procedures.

Because if it was?

I wouldn't have done it.

This is what Pam's "office" looks like.

 

Pam told me to get comfortable and stepped out of the room for a minute.

Instead, I snooped around and this is what I saw:

Those are the tools of the trade, I suppose.

And no, I don't know what any of that stuff is. 

Pam returned and told me to get ready.  I started getting a little nervous.

What had I gotten myself into this time?

I really can't believe the ugly photos I share of myself sometimes, but there you go!

(And, by the way, I was just goofing around - I was never worried because I knew Pam knows her stuff even if I don't!)

Pam put a solution on my face.  She told me what it was, but I don't remember.  It was Peel Stuff - is that good enough?

It didn't hurt.  She was just wiping a liquid onto my face.  After awhile it started feeling warm-ish.  She handed me a little fan to blow on my face in case I became uncomfortable, but it wasn't bad at all.  

I asked Pam what caused the warmth.

She explained I was experiencing a slow penetration.

You can probably imagine my response to a comment like that? 

Am I the only one?

Or does your mind also immediately jump in the gutter at the thought of a warm, slow, penetration?

 

I might have shocked Pam with my humor.  (Who ME?)

In fact, Pam might not ever invite me back. 

(But I think she will ....)

A minute or two later I was done.

 

Now what?

Well, Pam told me in about two days my skin will get a little flaky.  It sounds like it will be sort of like a bad case of dry skin.  She said I won't have sheets of skin peeling off the way you do with a sunburn ... just little flakes.  After a few days, the flakiness will stop.

(To be honest, my skin looks awesome right now from the treatment but I haven't started flaking yet.)

What is a Vitalize Peel supposed to do?

Well, it's supposed to help improve your skin's texture and tone.  It increases collagen production.  (Yay for collagen!)  It helps improve acne, hyperpigmentation and melasma.

Does anyone know what melasma is?  Because I don't.

The part I like, however, is the fact it's supposed to smooth fine lines and wrinkles.  I definitely have a few of those.  Also, it works well for all skin types so anybody can have a Vitalize Peel.

I can't wait to see how pretty my skin looks once I'm done being a flake for a few days.  

Will I ever, truly, be done being a flake?

Probably not.

On the other hand, if you want a fun skin treatment you should give Pam a call at the Pacific Center for Plastic Surgery.  She's got all sorts of tricks to make you more beautiful.  Pam made my experience a lot of fun and she really knows her stuff.

Thank you Pam!

xo

© Twenty Four At Heart

What I've Learned Lately

It's never too late to learn something new.  I've been reminded of this a lot lately, and I thought I'd take this opportunity to share with you some of my recent observations.

•  You will feel positively ancient when your child graduates from college even if you did give birth to her when you were only three.

•  All cottage cheese is not created equal.

•  A friend is not always the person they've pretended to be and it hurts deeply to come to this realization. 

•  Your air conditioning WILL break when the temperature exceeds 90 F and not a moment sooner.

•  Some drugs are not meant to be mixed with wine and you will, of course, realize this while in the company of your in-laws.

•  If you get a small, red, dry, itchy spot on your boob and you ask Twitter what it might be, you won't want to hear the (horrifying) responses.

•  You should never google images of diseases people on Twitter tell you about or the images you see will be burned into your brain cells for life.

•  No matter how long you live in The OC you will continue to be amazed at how many OC stereotypical people you encounter every single day.

•  Internet Trolls will continue to stalk you even though they say they hate you, will never read you again, and are going away forever.

•  Carbohydrates are highly addictive.

•  If you watch The Bachelorette you will wonder why you're wasting your time (and brain cells), but you will find it difficult to turn off anyway.

•  It will be highly disappointing to find out your son's employee discount at Nordstrom doesn't apply to you because you're not his "dependent."

•  Twitter will instantly be over capacity when there's a sizable earthquake nearby and you will not be able to respond to those inquiring about your safety.

•  There are, in all probability, more fake boobs and asses in Southern California than in the rest of the world combined.

•  If you purchase the new Miraclebody Jeans, you *might* decide they don't really make you look ten pounds thinner as promised.

•  When an old flame sees your new Twitter avatar/Facebook photo and remarks you still look hot, it will feel good even if you did photoshop your wrinkles away.

•  Summer league baseball should not be allowed to begin before the school year has ended.  I say this out of concern for the sanity of baseball parents everywhere.

•  One of the best things about returning home from a trip is seeing the joy and love your dog(s) bestow on you when you walk in the door.

•  Celery sticks and egg whites are not the least bit addictive.

•  When you return from a vacation it will take more days to get caught up than you were actually away for.  (This only applies to women and single dads - or should I just say this doesn't apply AT ALL to Briefcase?)

•  If a shallow OC woman comments on your wedding ring with the sole purpose of getting you to compliment her on the enormous rock on her finger, the best approach is to smile sweetly and ask her where she found such a big cubic zirconia.

© Twenty Four At Heart

In The Blink of an Eye

It seems like I just graduated from college.

I recently shared with you the above photo of my alma mater, University of California at Santa Barbara (UCSB).

Yesterday morning, I sat by the UCSB campus lagoon (just feet from the ocean) and watched my daughter, my firstborn, graduate in the exact same location I did just a (short?) time ago. 

It was deja vu in the strongest sense of the word.

I know this is not a "mommy" blog and I rarely write about my kids/family here.  I don't write about my kids because they're old enough to share their own personal stories with who they want, when they want.  Also, I'm very protective of them and blasting their photos and personal information all over the world doesn't make me feel very secure about their safety.  (I know YOU are wonderful, but I do get an occasional nut-job visiting 24.)

I am, however, bursting with emotion over yesterday's event.

There is pride, and happiness, of course.  My daughter graduated from college which is something to be very proud of in the first place.  She put my college GPA to shame while getting her degree and, additionally, minored in a secondary field.  In addition, she was part of the University of California Honors Program, and graduated with the highest honors - all in only three years. 

So, excuse me for having a "mom moment" today, but I am just so proud of all she has accomplished!

She will be living with us here in The OC for a short while and, of course, I'm thrilled about that too.

But the moment was also bittersweet.  She was recently accepted, and given a scholarship, to a graduate school three thousand miles away.  In a few short weeks, she will be moving across the country, far from home.  *sniff*

I'm warning you in advance, I'll be a crazy mess and puddle of tears when the time comes to see her off.

For today, however, I need to finish unpacking, get caught up on chores, and begin editing the zillions of photos I took over the weekend.

© Twenty Four At Heart

The Holiday Weekend

If you are reading this on Tuesday morning, you might be interested to know I've parked myself at the Money Town Starbucks for a couple hours.  I'll be writing (and Tweeting) about what I observe while I'm there and hopefully have it published for tomorrow's post.  

If you live in South Orange County and are familiar with the Money Town Starbucks, please stop by and say hello if you have the chance.  I think I'll be arriving there sometime around 8 a.m. and staying for about two hours.

I really enjoyed my holiday weekend.  I hope you did too!

I had all three of my kids home for the first half of the long weekend.  For those of you who still have young kids, let me tell you it's quite a treat as they get older and you're able to have them all at home at the very same time.

I'm having a hard time believing this myself, but I'm now the mom of a 21 year old!

How the hell did THAT happen?

I gave birth as a three year old, that's how.

It's a miracle, plain and simple!

We spent the weekend celebrating my daughter's birthday.  Celebrating involved a lot of tequila.  Yes, I even did a few celebratory shots.  (And no, I did not take any pain meds while drinking!)

I asked my daughter, "How can you be 21 when I'm only 24?"

She asked, "Mom, aren't you supposed to embrace getting older?"

I replied, "I suppose I will once I DO get older, but I'm still 24!"

She might have rolled her eyes and laughed.

(It must be tough explaining to your friends that your mom is only three years older than you.)

So, this is what I did over the last few days.

Beach - San Clemente this time:

 

Lunch at Fisherman's:

Margaritas at our favorite Mexican restaurant:

(Sorry, I had to cut everyone else out of this photo - and yes, this was straight from the beach, hence I look terrible!)

Not pictured:  Tequila shots, dancing on table tops (you think I'm kidding?) and other forms of My Mom's Not a Great Role Model behavior.

Isn't it great when your kids get old enough so you can be an immature adult with them?  

Ice cream birthday cake (I've blurred her name out of the photo):

Sipping coffee on our deck staring at my mountains:

 

A lot of time poolside:

I was very excited because I found a low-carb margarita mix which I enjoyed over the weekend.  (So many people have asked me about this already on Twitter.  It's made by Finest Call and is available at BevMo.)  

I also made myself my own low-carb single serving cake which only had 6 carbs in it.  Tequila doesn't have any carbs, although it does have calories and like all alcohol, it slows weight loss substantially.  However, considering the weekend of partying and fun, I think I did quite well on my new low-carb style of eating.  I didn't lose an ounce, but I didn't gain an ounce either and I consider that a success.

(By the way, I made the BEST dinner on the grill for Memorial Day - I may have to share the two recipes I used sometime soon.  Nom nom nom!!!)

I also loved being back in the pool for the first time in months.  The pool is the one place where I can move my arm a little more freely.  It becomes weightless and the water lifts it for me.  I love being in the pool because I feel "normal" again.

My arm is really weak and I've lost a lot of ground in both my strength and my range of motion.  On Sunday I could only swim two laps (using a modified breaststroke) which is terrible, even for me.  I grabbed a kick-board so I could rest my arm, and kicked my way through several more laps.  

The good news?  I was only a little sore from my first attempt at swimming this year.  Maybe the new pain medication is beginning to kick in?!  Let's hope!

Yesterday, I tried round two of swimming.  I did quite a few more laps than the first day.  And yes, I'm hurting a little more now, but still - much less than what I would expect for that level of activity.

I know it's too soon to know for sure ....

I'm afraid to even say this ... but I'm cautiously - hopeful.  

Please, please, please let this medication work for me!  

Please, please, please let this be a new beginning!

I'll be in the pool nearly every day for the next several months so I will continue to work on re-building strength in my arm.

All in all, it was a great holiday weekend.  

Did you do anything fun and/or exciting for your weekend?  

I'm nosy - I want to hear all about it!

© Twenty Four At Heart