I'm reading the obituaries again.....

Why I don't know because I actually have no idea who these people are. And no one seems to write the cause of death anymore. Obits in the UK are far more entertaining. You get cause of death, the long decline into illness, pithy remarks that allude to family fallouts, neglected spouses and troublesome kids - not to mention egregious spelling mistakes. I don't want some corporate obit entry, I want a colorful description of how I kicked the bucket, a list of all my favorite pets and lots of flowers. None of this donating money to obscure charities nonsense. Call it like it was. Cranky to the end and proud of it.

Oh heck, its that time of year

Tipping is something I'm not that good at. And I do need a gentle nudge sometimes. But even I grimace when my newspaper delivery person leaves me a Christmas card and self addressed envelope for a tip before Thanksgiving. So living in the US has conditioned me to whip out the wallet at Christmas. The slow descent into this seasonal hell isn't marked by the decorations going up in the mall in mid November, nor the festive crap on the shelves of CVS. Its the not so bloody subtle demands for cash. So in the spirit of St. Nick and service providers everywhere henceforth I will require my kids to tip me for services rendered during the year, ditto for the spouse and I think the dogs should chip in. And that neighbor who never thanks me for putting her newspaper onto her driveway. And while I'm at it mum and dad can fork over some dough. God knows I need it, I have to tip the bin men tomorrow.

Didn't we used to chat about boyfriends......?

Its horrible. There I am with my friends at a swanky restaurant. We are chatting away and it hits me like a brick that we are talking about blood pressure medicine, heart palpitations and cancer. What on earth has happened to us? Five years ago we chatted breathlessly about new babies, engagements and buying houses. Now we swap medical horror stories, discuss the merits of mammograms and reel off obituaries like seasoned AARP members. And we've barely made it past 40. Not that I can show my shock since my forehead is frozen into serene acceptance thanks to botox. This is what getting older is about. Its not the subtle changes in muscles and creaking joints, its dinner conversation. I wonder if in a decade we'll have moved from meds to mortuaries. Will we gossip about long term care, nursing homes and the Trident Society?

And as I look around the table I realize we're all thinking the same thing "ohmygod since when did I care about these things". And we all pause and suddenly chat about Britney Spears. Because honestly its an affirmation of our youth, the fact that we actually log onto tmz.com and aren't too fuddy duddy because we know all about her and her slutty sister, demented mother and those forlorn toddlers.