New York Fashion Week

If you like fashion (and I’m not referring to having a dressy pair of Uggs to wear on nice occasions), February is an exciting time.

Winter and fall fashion lines recede to make way for spring and summer.

Fashion magazines once again begin to pop with color and vibrancy.

Sales are insane, because houses want to make room for new merch.

Stores are glutted with hope and beautiful spring product.

And New York Fashion Week happens. It starts this year on February 11th, and by some egregious oversight, I once again have not received an invitation to attend. I mean, who makes these decisions?

Attending New York Fashion Week has been on my bucket list ever since I was a young girl. But not just attending. I’ve always wanted to sit in the elite front row, like my muse Carrie Bradshaw in the “Sex and the City” movie, dressed to the nines with her friends and freshly hydrated from brunch mimosas.

But until you research Fashion Week NY, it’s hard to explain how hard it is to get tickets to even attend, much less realizing the pipe dream of ever sitting in that front row. You know who sits in the front row? Anna Wintour. Nicole Kidman. The Olsen twins. Rooney Mara, Jennifer Lawrence, A-Listers like that.

So what kind of shot do I have?

Probably not much of a one, but who cares? That’s why it’s a bucket list, and I will never give up trying to attend. I think you’d be surprised to know how many things I’ve already accomplished on that bucket list, a yellow dog-eared physical list I actually still have upstairs in my personal papers.

Maybe I’ll publish it one day.

So this week, I am going to devote each blog post to one thing I have yet to accomplish on my bucket list. Don’t worry, I won’t bore you with nonsense like “publish my book.” That’s in the works, anyway. No, the things I will be talking about this week are odd things you might not expect. Sweet, personal things that I’ve just always wanted to do, but either have not found the time, the money or the connections to accomplish.

But you know me. They’ll get done.

So as we transition from January to February this week, know that while March 20th is the official beginning of the spring season, February is actually the more subtle transition. We may be shoveling our cars out and going on skiing trips, but small buds of possibility are beginning to appear.

You just have to know where to look.

(Note: Don’t get bent out of shape about the Uggs comment. I have a dressy pair of Uggs, too. You’re way too sensitive).

Running on Empty

Audi Console Message:

“You’re running low on gas. Would you like me to find you a nearby gas station to refuel?”

Mary spins knob, pushes, “No.”

5 minutes later:

“Um, you’re running really low on gas. Would you like me to find you a nearby gas station to refuel?”

Spins and pushes. “No.”

5 minutes later:

“You’ll need gas in 30 miles. It’s very important that you let me find you a nearby gas station to refuel. Want me to?”

Me: “No.”

5 miles later:

“Yo, dumbass, you need gas in 25 miles. Let me find you a gas station, PLEASE.”

“No.”

5 miles later:

“FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, LET ME FIND YOU A GAS STATION.”

Me: “NO!”

5 miles later:

“You will run out of gas in 15 miles, you dumb bitch. I’ve tried to reason with you, but you don’t listen. When you run out of gas, don’t come crying to me, I did everything I could. I will not be held responsible. Are you sure you don’t want me to find you a gas station to refuel?”

“No.”

5 miles later:

“Ten miles to go. Where are you? Are you in the desert? On a dark country road? I’m sorry I called you a ‘dumb bitch,’ I’m here for you. Are you safe? Can you get to a nearby refueling station?”

“No.”

5 miles later:

“You’re running on fumes. This is it. The end. I failed you. If I could take back all of the things I said, I would. But it’s too late. Be well, and never forget that I always loved you.”

Mary sails into a gas station with plenty of gas to spare, and Audi perks up.

“I had faith in you the whole time, I never doubted you for a minute.”

The Silent Treatment

I tried calling Walgreen’s pharmacy to tell them that my son would be late for his booster appointment as he was on the way back from a snowboarding trip, but I kept getting recordings. The only thing to do in that situation, my friends, is to remain completely silent on the phone. If you don’t give the bots a choice, it defaults you to a human being, which is what happened today. It usually works.

Usually.

Using the silent treatment in a face-to-face human interaction can be trickier, because you’re dealing with personality and temperament. I used the silent treatment so effectively last week at Barnes and Noble that I want to share it with you. You might see this quick skit on my Netflix series in the future:

(Mary ready to check-out at Barnes and Noble, and not in the mood for chit-chat):

Old chirpy store associate: Hi, you find everything you were looking for?

Me: (Determined to avoid small talk): Yes.

SA: Are you a member?

Me: Yes.

SA: Can I have your cell phone number?

Me: (Gives it).

SA: Hey, you have a $1.00 cookie from the bakery today, it expires in 3 ½ minutes, would you like to redeem it?

Me: No.

SA: You’re sure? They’re still warm.

Me: No. Look, I’m kinda in a rush.

SA: (Slightly miffed) I also see that you have the educator discount, but it’s expired. Let me get that current for you.

Me:

SA: Taps. Taps. Taps.

Me:

SA: (Taps. Taps. Taps).

Me:

SA: I’m so sorry, I’ve forgotten my employee ID.

Me:

SA: Let me try something else (taps taps taps).

Me:

SA: I’m so sorry, it’s not working. I must be getting old! (laughs)

Me:

SA: You said you were in a rush, I’m so sorry, thank you for your patience.

Me:

SA: (Taps. Taps. Taps.)

Me:

SA: Got it! There we go! Last time’s the charm!

Me:

SA: I changed my password from my dog’s name to my cat’s Instagram handle. You a cat person?

Me:

SA: Not a people person either, I can see. So that’ll be $12.99.

Me: (Hands her money).

SA: Sorry for the inconvenience today, some days are like that, right?

Me:

SA: (Hands me bag). Thanks again for your patience.

Me: Thanks. (Walks out).

Nameberry

Here’s something fun from my favorite blogger:

Nameberry just released their most popular lists of baby names. They’re fun to see, although one big caveat is that the lists are based on how many times each name is searched on their site, and Nameberry’s readership of course doesn’t exactly match the population of the U.S., so please take these with a grain of salt!

Most popular boys’ names:
1. Arlo
2. Theodore
3. Soren
4. Atticus
5. Felix
6. Kai
7. Milo
8. Finn
9. Rowan
10. Silas
11. Ezra
12. Jude
13. Oscar
14. August
15. Theo
16. Jasper
17. Oliver
18. Atlas
19. Hugo
20. Asher

Most popular girls’ names:
1. Maeve
2. Luna
3. Aurelia
4. Ophelia
5. Eloise
6. Isla
7. Freya
8. Alice
9. Iris
10. Ottilie
11. Elodie
12. Hazel
13. Violet
14. Aurora
15. Ivy
16. Amelia
17. Charlotte
18. Eleanor
19. Clara
20. Esme

Rebirth

I have ten weeks to apply the theme of power to a TED-talk I’m giving in Arizona.

To get a spot for their April speaking series, I had to muddle through four application phases, including filming (an inevitably terrible) three-minute video answering the question, “Who would you put on your own personal Mount Rushmore?”

Don’t ask.

I was one of six applicants to win a spot, so now’s the time for the actual work. The structuring of a talk that proposes the following:

That widowhood, while widely regarded as a pitiable condition, can, if utilized effectively, be seen as an enviable one. To wit: how can a woman harness the power that accompanies widowhood as a launch pad for reinvention?

When looking for a featured image for this post, I typed “widow” into the search bar, and two types of pictures came up: the first depicted hot young women in black veils and red lipstick, staring seductively at the camera. The other type showed lonely old women wearing sensible shoes, either staring aimlessly into space from a kitchen, sitting despondently on a park bench, or being comforted by a family member.

Whore or spinster. Those are our two choices.

When I typed “widower” into the search bar, there was not one free picture. Not one. But in iStock, you could buy photos which depicted widowers in any number of fun activities: hiking, staring at the Eiffel Tower, laughing with grandchildren, etc. There were only two pictures showing male despondency: an elderly man staring at his wedding portrait, and a young guy with his head down, twisting his wedding band around his finger.

Let me translate. If you’re a widow, you’re fucked and alone. If you’re a widower, there is still fun to be had. Egads.

Neither I nor any widow I have met in the last four years identifies with any of those pictures. While many miss their husbands, the women I have met LOVE their new lives of travel and independence and adventure. Since the death of their spouses they have had no choice but to become strong and formidable, and with each personal and professional victory, they became tougher and tougher to vanquish.

Harry Crews once said:

It is in a crisis, conflicts, in what I think of as “blood moments,” that you find out who the hell you are, what you really are, what you really believe, what you’re really capable of- that’s where you find it out.

Fuck yeah for widowhood.

Does This Yard Make Me Look Fat?

The way a woman is appreciated throughout her life changes from one stage to another.

As babies, we are appreciated for our gurgles, and our life force. We are admired simply because we are delicious miracles. We scamper around charming everyone and everything, learning what works.

We eventually enter the school systems, where we are admired for being pretty, or intelligent, or funny, or athletic, or artistic. We try to do well in school, enjoy our sports and our activities, and endeavor to make our families proud by going to college or getting a good job.

Then we enter our “hottest” phase- that time of life in our 20’s and 30’s where men, young and old, just desire us. They ache for us. Our beauty and bodies and brazenness tend to knock men off their feet.

And don’t even try saying, “I never went through a hot phase.”

Yes, you did. You might have been too busy comparing yourself to others to really see it. Trust me, men thought you were hot. I’m sorry you missed it. Make up for it by enjoying your hotness now. Yes, you’re still hot, so don’t go missing another opportunity to appreciate your hotness, knucklehead. Enjoy this one.

After many years of looking, we choose the best boy we can find, get married and procreate. We proudly push our babies around in strollers, and it occurs to us that while people still smile when they approach us, they’re not looking at us anymore- they’re looking at our babies. They’re not besotted by us, but by our babies.

And we know this is good. This is right.

I once met an older woman at the playground as she watched her grandchildren play, and she complimented me on how cute my sons were. I thanked her but lamented that I myself looked terrible. With twins and a toddler, I told her it was all I could do to get out the door, much less try to look glamorous.

“Honey,” she said, “don’t worry about it. Once you have babies, no one looks at you anymore, anyway.”

Sort of true.

Then our children grow independent, and we reach that exciting stage of reinvention. Maybe we want to start a new career, or travel, or start chipping away at that bucket list. We dance like no one is watching, we take classes, we even start spending winters away from home. It is an exciting time.

For widows, this stage is all the more poignant, because you are single, and men start looking at you again. But not because you’re attractive. I mean, I like to think I don’t look like the Elephant Man, but on any given day, if a man looks at me twice, two thoughts pop into my head:

Does he desire me? Or my real estate?

Men, especially men who deal with money, are 100% positive that widows can’t handle their finances. Real estate agents especially will do anything to cozy up to a widow with desirable real estate. Anything. They hope to eventually get close enough to whisper sweet nothings in her ear.

“Oooh, baby, gimme that square footage….”

This past summer I was enjoying patio cocktails with a visiting friend, and as we chatted, my friend suddenly cut me off.

“That guy is staring at you really intently.”

I looked over to see a man walking his dogs, a man who has always coveted my property. No many how many kind ways I have tried to tell this man to buzz off, he looks at me as if I am an unwelcome birdbath squatting on the lot of his future home.

I shrugged it off. “He’s not staring at me. He’s staring at the lot.”

She stared back at him.

“Why is he standing in the middle of your yard? Doesn’t he even care that you’re sitting right here?”

“Nope.”

Widows are simply not to be taken seriously, and that’s fine. After almost five years I’ve not only grown accustomed to it, I’m fairly amused by it. Because when it comes to being treated like a big, dumb, stupid idiot, I always like to defer to my favorite saying:

I can tell how dumb someone is by how stupid he thinks I am.

Underestimate a widow with brains, intention, purpose and fire at your own peril. More tomorrow on the power of widowhood.

The Simplicity of Resetting

I should have known last Monday was going to be rough when I slept past my body clock.

Sleeping past the time I naturally wake up is the dumbest thing I can do in my day. No lie. All of these social media posts from people who go back to sleep when they wake up, take all of these naps, sleep twelve hours a day. I don’t know how they do it. I don’t know why they want to do it.

Sounds like depression to me.

If I roll over to get even an extra half hour, I will most likely start my day with a nightmare. Happens every time. Last Monday I had a dream about my beloved dog Mojo, and he was limping. Our family is still heartbroken over his death, and I woke up emotionally crushed.

All day, instead of being energized, I felt lethargic. My workout was subpar, my appetite off, and by that I mean I was craving things I usually didn’t, in quantities I didn’t need. I had brain fog, and sort of pouted around the house, cursing myself for my somnambulistic mistake.

I was cranky all day, and as I worked, I kept repeating to myself, “This was supposed to be my first winter in Scottsdale.” Soon enough I was feeling down in the dumps, cursing the Draconian measures of the pandemic and trying to figure out how to extricate myself from the emotional hole I had dug for myself.

Then I had a consultation appointment with my publisher, and those thirty minutes of talking intellectually with someone who thinks highly of me and my work was like an emotional shower.

It completely reset me. After bidding her goodbye, I discovered that my brain fog was gone, my lethargy dissipated, and my doldrums a thing of the past. All it took was one thirty-minute conversation with someone with the same mindset, goals and energy as myself.

So when we talk about resetting, of course it doesn’t have to be a 10k trekking vacation in Telluride. It can be something as simple as connecting with a positive, energetic member of the human race.

So off with you. This weekend, be sure to reset with someone you love. Or even someone you like a little.

The Cost of Resetting

Want to reset in Telluride?

Hell yes, I thought to myself, as I clicked on the Instagram link. The private, ultra-luxury wellness and trekking retreat promised to give me a week that would change my life.

You know I’m always up for life-changing experiences, and since I have ten days to decide if I’m going to travel in February or work, I’m investigating all possibilities.

This seems promising, I thought. I’ve never been to Telluride. I kept clicking.

Half-day treks, chef-designed cuisine, restorative therapies and spa services. Break out of tired patterns. Tap into your highest potential.

Yeah, baby, Mary likey.

I kept scrolling. And scrolling and scrolling and scrolling. You know what this means as well as I do. They were building up the program before they revealed the price.

Want to take a guess? Let’s look at it this way: Including tip, breakfast out for a family of four now costs about $100, dinner out between $200-$300. A week’s worth of groceries for a family of four now costs about $300. I used to fill my tank for $35, now it costs $60. I got my kid Panera bread last week on the way home from a consultation, and three small items were $30.

(Side shopping note: if you’re a woman who likes to shop, join the Nordy club. I popped into Nordstrom over the weekend, and found a belted sweater that would look good with my leggings and boots, and was pleased to find out I had a $50 note. I took that sweater home for nothing. It’s worth it)

In the book Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell, there’s a rule that goes like this: it takes 10,000 hours of intensive practice to achieve mastery of complex skills and materials, like playing the violin or getting as good as Bill Gates at computer programming.

For example, if you’re a teacher, you’re teaching 30 hours a week, not including meal breaks, meetings, grading papers or outside improvement activities. You’re in the classroom about 35 weeks a year, which equates to about 1,050 hours a year. So if using Gladwell’s theory, it would take the average teacher about 10 years to reach mastery.

Take it from an educator: that’s about right. If anything, in ten years you simply have control and structure. Artistry takes longer.

Then there’s the song, “10,000 Hours” by Justin Bieber and Dan and Shay. Apparently it takes 10,000 hours and 10,000 more to really know a girl’s heart. So if you marry her, you can expect to sort of understand her in six years, with an added cushion of another six. Again, sounds right.

If you haven’t guessed it yet, yes: resetting in Telluride costs just under $10,000. It promises:

5 sunrises (not enough)

15 trail mates (too many)

70,000 steps (that’s about .07 cents a step, or is my math wrong?)

I commend them for trying. The travel industry will probably never recover from the nonsense of the last three years, or at the very least for many years to come. Expedia owes me flight credits, won’t take my phone calls, and have refused to reimburse me for trips that were cancelled due to Covid. They refuse to reimburse anyone, for that matter. That’s what bankruptcy looks like.  

Shame.

Nevertheless, is it possible that resetting can be had for less than $10,000? Tune in tomorrow.

Spring break is gonna be slamming. For the love of God I hope it gets here soon.

(Note: the pesky, finicky Universe has decided for me, as it often does, as to my fate in February. Looking like work, folks. I’m glad for it, but spring break can’t get here soon enough).

Bag Lady

I just re-used a Ziploc bag. What am I becoming? Who am I? What’s next? A hairnet? Sensible shoes? Shuffleboard? Soft palatable foods?

It’s not like the Ziplock bag held cucumbers. No. I had used it to store leftover bacon, for a recipe later in the week. So it was kind of greezy, and as I washed it out with a soap and sponge, I sort of hovered over myself, like in an outer body experience, watching myself pour soap in the bag, wash it and hang it to dry.

Floating Me: What the hell are you doing?

Terrestrial Me: Washing this Ziploc bag.

FM: Why?

TM: There’s nothing wrong with it, it can be used again.

FM: It’s filthy!

TM: A little soap and water, and I turn it inside out, let it dry, and good as new.

FM: But you have an entire box of them.

TM: So? They’re expensive! Are you paying the bills?

FM: No.

TM: Exactly. Must be nice, just floating around up there, never having to worry about anything except what you observe and judge.

FM: What’s next? Washing Solo cups and paper plates?

TM: For your information, I do wash Solo cups.

FM: Then why buy them? Just use the regular house glasses!

TM: Good point. You’re right, no more Solo cups.

FM: What about when the boys have friends over?

TM: Good point. You’re right, I’ll keep buying Solo cups. But I’ll wash them as I see fit.

FM: Well, you’re just plain embarrassing.

TM: Hey, Waste-Not Want-Not.

FM: (Watches as TM bustles around kitchen). Now what are you doing?

TM: Putting away groceries (TM places the rubber hand around the asparagus into the junk drawer, avoiding FM’s gaze).

FM: (Stares). No, you did not.

TM: What?

FM: You just saved that produce rubber band?

TM: So?

FM: When will you ever use that again? You have 300 rubber bands in that drawer.

TM: You never know when it will come in handy.

FM: Like when there is a zombie apocalypse, and we all have to defend ourselves by shooting them with rubber bands?

TM: Jest if you will, but you never know.

FM: Let’s just make a sandwich, ok?

TM: Fine (grabs two ends from the empty whole grain loaf).

FM: Ends?!!! Ends?!!!

TM: I’ll flip them around, you’ll never know the difference!

FM: That’s the last straw.

TM: You need a straw? (Opens cabinet) I save these from fast food orders, I’ve got plenty.

FM: I’m outta here.

Wolf Moon

Hey, sorry about yesterday. I no longer post on national holidays, or haven’t you heard? I’ve moved up in the world.

Did you catch the wolf moon last night? Gorgeous. I have decided to bump all of my posts up for the week, and publish this horoscope. The wolf moon means different things for each zodiac sign, so thanks again to Popsugar, the Crowned Queens of Minutae.

What is the wolf moon?

“It’s thought that January’s full Moon came to be known as the Wolf Moon because wolves were more likely to be heard howling at this time,” says the Farmer’s Almanac. While the wolves were once assumed to be howling because of hunger, over time the howling was understood as a way to mark territory, hunt, and find other pack members. In the end, regardless of the true reason behind the howling, the name for the full January moon stuck, thanks to the vocal wolves.

“The wolf moon that comes in the dead of winter is a time for transformation and introspection,” Stina Garbis, psychic and astrologer, tells POPSUGAR. “It is a time of figuring out what you need in order to have a successful life. It’s also a time of seeing what’s missing and finding truth in what you long for. It’s about sacrifice and finding personal truth and discovering your purpose and how it relates to the bigger picture and society as a whole.”

Heavy words.

Here’s the horoscope as it applies to your sign:

  • Aquarius: Watch out, Aquarius. Garbis says Aquarius “may have challenges with expression of their feelings, and they may be caught in a lie.”
  • Pisces: January should be a lucky time for Pisces, and they might find new love, new fortune, or something else they’ve been seeking.
  • Aries: January looks like a struggle for Aries, but don’t give up. You may have some stumbling blocks in your personal relationships, but you can definitely get through it.
  • Taurus: January may be a time for creative freedom for a Taurus. “This would be a good time for Taurus to start a creative project that brings even more wealth to this naturally abundant sign,” Garbis says.
  • Gemini: It looks like an eye-opening month for Geminis. “This can also be a time where hidden intentions of people around them are revealed,” Garbis says, adding that miscommunication could be a big problem this month.
  • Cancer: January could be huge for Cancers, and Garbis says they “may experience an ‘aha’ moment where they figure out how they fit into this world.” They also may get the opportunity of a lifetime.
  • Leo: For Leos, January is a time of introspection. Garbis shares, “This may be a fortunate time for Leo, who may come to an understanding about their true feelings in a relationship or towards themselves.”
  • Virgo: Money could be at the forefront of the new year for a Virgo as they go through challenges with what they have. It might be time for a new financial project to start 2022.
  • Libra: The year will have a bold start for Libras, who may find themselves with a burst of creativity. According to Garbis, though, they may “suffer for their art and express pain through beauty.”
  • Scorpio: The beginning of the year is a time for Scorpio to find themselves by putting their own wants and needs first. It’ll start 2022 off on the right foot.
  • Sagittarius: January will be up and down for Sagittarius, but the low points won’t last long. Higher highs are on the horizon.
  • Capricorn: Those new year’s resolutions for accountability might be a good idea for Capricorns. The beginning of the year is the time to kick those bad habits and have your friends and family hold you accountable.

The next full moon is February’s Snow Moon on February 16th.