Just a couple of dizzy old broads…

I say that laughingly, but anyone who has ever had debilitating vertigo will understand that it is funny, but only after time has passed.   It is terrifying when it is happening.  It is something both Sandy and I have experienced.

The frustration is having always been robustly healthy, seeming to be able to eat and drink and do whatever I want.  When that is not the case any longer, you appreciate in retrospect what a healthy body is worth.

Now I sit here, twenty pounds more than I am comfortable with, out of shape and just a little mad at myself.  Why was it always so much easier before to keep on track, go to the gym at least five days a week, and eat healthy foods?

My thoughts are that it is part of ageing, but the real truth is that is a great excuse.   Well, I don’t date any longer (seems like I have lost interest) and no one really sees me.  You know the way you feel invisible after a certain age?   So…who cares?

I am reading a book on Choosing Myself and it is making me take an honest look at myself.  When did I stop choosing me?  When did I let my health issues or age be an excuse to stop being the best me?

Now, here I am, putting it in writing for everyone to see.  Great way to keep myself accountable.

Please leave a comment on how you experience your motivation and self image as the years tick by.

Technology Wins 3 to 1 over Crabby Old Women

Talk about turning on the frustration switch … which in turn quickly turned on the crabby switch. What should have been a simple click here, login, upload has become an experience in technology is smarter than these Crabby Old Women!

Today, Nancy and I were committed to getting this blog up and running with simple things like adding our photo to our profile, so that, when you are reading our posts you will quickly know who wrote it.

It seems there is this thing called Gravatar and WordPress requires you to use it in order to put your picture in your profile. I easily added mine; however, Gravatar was having nothing to do with Nancy!

After about 15 attempts (and I am not exaggerating) we both said *&^#!@ it and said it was time to step away from the keyboard before our crabby attitude turned into something way more serious.

Just another day of having a love / hate relationship with technology. I guess it is time to call our expert and ask for help … damn it! I’m sure it is something simple, and it will be yet another moment when technology wins at making me feel really stupid.

I am now chanting – I love WordPress. WordPress is my friend. WordPress is easy to use. And, I’m sure it will be the truth when I stop adding a phrase quietly in my mind – yeah right!

By the way, do you love our Crabby Old Woman? We thought she represented a crabby old woman, with her hat of red hibiscus flowers and big, fat stogy cigar, and that look of don’t mess with me on her face … I’m having a crabby moment.  We haven’t decided on her name yet, do you have any ideas for what we should name her?

THE BEGINNING. . .

How and why a blog for Crabby Old Women? There are a lot of us female baby boomers and I suspect, we have more in common than not. Admit it, don’t you have days when you think, “I am my grandmother! How the hell did that happen?”

It can be very subtle. The annoyance at that loud boom bass in the car next to you that drowns everything out. The way you schlep across the floor in your slippers. When did I stop picking my feet up? The conversations with friends that lead to the invariable list of ills, pains and pills.

The two of us were having breakfast in a local diner and I asked for the Senior menu. I was informed they did not have one any longer. I was incensed. I worked hard for this age, I deserve it, blah, blah, blah. Hmmmmmph! The lovely waitress looked at us and said, “If you remember what was on it, we can accommodate you, but if you ladies would just calm down I will tell you that you can have ANYTHING on the entire menu and you will get a 15% senior discount. We decided to have the unlimited choices and the offered discount instead of the rather limited menu.

The kind waitress asked “Will you ladies be okay with that?” Well, okay, we offered, a bit humbled.

Then there was another slight incident with the much younger, and innocent, waitress who re-filled my coffee cup so full there was no room to put cream in it.

This incident ended in uncontrollable laughter at ourselves for being the crabby old women we have become.

This blog is dedicated to all the crabby old women who are probably wondering, as we are – how the hell did this happen?