Superhero Gladys Gordon!

For Halloween I’m going as an aging sexy old woman superhero Gladys Gordon. Double G’s. It’s going to be epic! 

At what age am I allowed to old lady bitch-slap the hell out of people for being loudmouth demanding assholes in public? 

If your mom never beat you for being a disrespectful loudmouth in public, than old ladies nearby should be allowed.

“Ok we’re leaving you guys took too long!”

Fun fact. We don’t give a shit. Leave. 

At my age we no longer care if you go. 

“In five years I can move into senior housing. It’s strange being this old. Not awkward. Just strange.” 

Perhaps a little awkward. Hot flashes that last for hours. Old lady menstrual cycle. Man spreading. Not pretty. 

It’s all about the journey, no? 

We know how it ends. It’s the same for everyone. You live. You die. 

We all die. Like Shakespeare. 

I looked at my first senior magazines and checked out my first senior dating website. Good gawd, lord Jesus, and they say women give up on their looks? These men look terrible! My dad was incredibly handsome, born that way I suppose, and then one day, literally overnight, he just wasn’t handsome anymore. He turned into Santa Claus. I wonder if it was the same for these men on this dating site? Only my dad was in his 60’s and was in a long term relationship with the love of his life until the day he died. These men are only in their 50’s, single, lonely, but look like absolute shit. Fat. Unkept. Disheveled. (Sigh) False Facebook advertising. “Meet these attractive available men in their 50’s” with photos of aging male models from 15 years ago. Facepalm. 

Explain to me again why I can’t just be alone? Oh right. It’s not normal. 

But... but... 

Sologramy. It’s a growing trend. People marrying themselves. Imarriedme.com. Well at least I would be with someone I actually like and could live with.

I won’t marry me. Marriage is for the birds. I blissfully live with me in sin. For a long time now. No fights about sex or money. I don’t have to listen to someone else’s nagging drama. Hooray! 

It’s a strange world we live in. People don’t date anymore. Especially people my age. They want to date. They just don’t. They gave up on their looks. So they can’t. When you’re young you can be blasé about being single because you’re young and probably decent looking. Someone will come along eventually. When you’re my age you don’t get to be blasé. You can’t afford it. If you want to date you have to make an effort. But these Vegas desert men who are my age just said fuck it, and think someone will love them anyway. In what world do they live in? Then again, maybe someone will love them. There’s a lot of desperate lonely women in the world. Sure why not? But that someone isn’t me. 

Furthermore...

I could totally hear the conversations we would have. 

You want to go see a movie?

“No”

You want to go for a hike? Red rock?

“No”

Want to check out the neon museum?

“No”

Want to hit a lounge and hear some music, get a few glasses of wine?

“No”

Want to help me decorate my apartment for the holidays?

“No”

These guys are only on dating websites because they didn’t have to shower, leave their house, or move anything more than their hands. Some of these guys looked like they haven’t showered in months!

I have limits. 

The top two things that drive me absolutely insane these days, are when people repeatedly text, call, act out, or yell my name repeatedly and unnecessarily to get my attention, AND when adults bring their superficial drama to my doorstep. These two things have always driven me crazy, only now I don’t have the tolerance or care I once had. I zone out. Those people are like my hypothetical kids I would have “accidentally” left on the roof of my car.

“What happened to your son?”

My what? Oh. Right. Him. Meh. I don’t know? 

What I don’t get is how serious old women are about nonsensical things. And when I say “old” I mean women 50+. Why are you so severely troubled? I hear you nag about the most ridiculous things. I actually heard two women my age loudly complain about the wind for about 15 minutes, and how windy wind is, and why is it so windy, and how much they hate the wind. My dear ladies, it’s wind. The only observable remark one can say about the wind is, “Wow is it windy out.” And even that is barely tolerable especially after the 100th time. 

Where do you women get the energy to be so insufferable? I’m tired. Even after a decent night’s sleep and five cups of caffeine I’m like, “Why the fuck is $150 missing from my checking... “ and then I lose steam and just say fuck it. Deal with it later. Much like how these Vegas desert guys just said fuck it regarding their appearance once they turned 50. I’m too old and tired to fight with people, even myself. Quick fix problem solver. That’s me. Just a fast snap across the head with a rolled up magazine. Aaaah relief. 

I’m just happy if I can unscrew the cap on a bottle of Powerade. Success!! 

Apparently I’m supposed to date someone younger than me. In their early 40’s they say. The last time I dated younger than me, he stole my favorite tee-shirt. Bastard. Why couldn’t he have just stolen my tv? I don’t give a shit about my tv. That’s replaceable. 

If I ever date exclusively again, I’m going to falsely love something he can steal that’s easily replaceable. Secretly I’ll mean something else. Transference.

I love this rug. This rug is so...

No wait. I actually do love this rug.

I love these candles. The smell so...

Damnit. I do love these candles.

I love this fork. My special fork. ❤️