Tag Archives: getting older

10 Things I Wanted to do with My Life and Clearly Never Will

It’s my birthday.  Yes, I know “Happy to Me” and all, I’m not feeling so happy.  Actually, I kinda want to be serious for a minute.  It is Friday the 13th ohhhhhhh.  Respect.  I don’t know what that means ’cause I’m Jewish.  But here goes:
I – WILL – NEVER – BE – FAMOUS!!!!!!

Imagine stamping feet between each word.

What? I said I was going to be serious, not mature!

January 13th marks the first day of the last year in my 30‘s.  I know, I could have said that more succinctly – but you know what?  It’s my birthday, so I get to do what I want!

Most importantly, in this day filled with the logging of new wrinkles and the circling of new cellulite dimples that I will have to remove at 40, and assessing what I have not accomplished and what I will never accomplish.

Holy shit.  I will never be famous.  Look, you don’t have to have wanted to be a famous actress, writer, singer, talk show host… from the age of 3 to relate; you merely have to have wanted a certain success that looks less likely to occur as the years pass.  You have to get that urge to sob uncontrollably at the bleak outlook that is your professional or social future, but you should squelch such antics as you’re in the middle of a parent teacher meeting and you really should be paying attention. (wait, that’s just me.)

I was all prepped for fame.  At 5, I was singing outside of restaurants, attracting throngs of people who said things to my mother like, “Oy, you should take her to try out for Annie,” “My G-d that child can sing.” and “Miss, could you please move, you and your child are blocking the entrance.” Were they talent scouts whose opinions could’ve translated into the big bucks?

Probably not.

But they knew good deli and they loved a fatty corned beef on Rye, so that gives them credibility right?  I’m sure many talent execs know good deli, so really it’s quite the same thing.

If I were 5 today, I’d certainly be famous.  Someone would’ve YouTubed me and it would’ve gone viral and I would’ve been befriended by Usher and I would’ve made an inspirational movie called “Never Say Never.”

What, that happened to someone else?

See, it’s a clear case of bad timing.

Here are things I wanted so badly to do with my life that I clearly never will:
1.  Be a Part of  the Kings of Comedy tour
2.  Sing a Duet with Shawn Cassidy
3.  Replace Marie on the Donny and Marie Show Continue reading

Aging Series: Article 1 “Geography Lesson”

Such weird things happen as we get older. For instance, what your parents called beauty marks your dermatologist calls moles. Those veins that once transported blood to your feet look like they are trying to escape from your legs.

Everyone is freaking out about something. I get calls about gray hair, stray hair, receding hair, and hair that won’t grow.

I hear about bad backs, brains that lag,

cottage cheese thighs, and boobs that sag.

Age brings crow’s feet, faces that wrinkle,

memory loss, and fallen bladders that tinkle.

That’s right, I rhymed.

The weirdest things are those you didn’t see coming. For instance, I now have an ugly tongue. You didn’t see that coming did you? I’d always notice when older people had those tongues that showed indentations from every tooth and think, “thank G-d he’s too old to French kiss anyone.” Mind you old is 40 when you’re like 13.

Now, I have acquired an ugly tongue. It’s not always ugly, so if you were thinking, “Me and you, open mouthed greeting.” You can still catch me on a good day. I went to the Doctor, because as stated in the “Hypochondriatic Oath,” “I will fulfill my duty to check everything out. From lumps to paper cuts.” The doctor said this ugly mark actually has a name, “Geographic Tongue.”

He explained that it’s a reaction to spicy or salty foods, in which blotches show up that look like the outlines of countries, hence the term. It comes and goes, in different places and locations.

Two weeks ago I was featuring Africa, however it appears today I am feeling patriotic. Not that I think anyone is really looking, but I have to remind myself, “No raspberries till it disappears, and no showing off my tongue rolling or cherry tying abilities for that matter.” This will be hard, but I will persevere… in the name of vanity.

Sadly my husband, who is the person I kiss the most, gets the job of helping me decipher which country it looks like. It’s a fun little game we play to get in the mood. I think it’s really hot. I might even call it foreplay, but it’s been so long since I had the time or energy for foreplay I wouldn’t know it if it bit me on the tongue.

I think if Mark had to call it something, the word would be… gross. Luckily, the fear of having to do things like figure out visitation schedules and who gets the itunes library, the cat… our many vacation villas, is a large factor in him sticking around.

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