Life is short, and let's face it: mine is probably more than half over. I'm not going to waste any more of the time I have left on things I don't like if I can possibly help it.
Here, then, is my abridged list of
Ten Things I'm Not Doing Anymore If I Can Help It
1. Attend Kid Parties
2. Send Cards
3. Drink Bad Wine
4. Attend Baby or Bridal Showers
5. Clothes Shop for Myself at Macy's
6. Get a Haircut
7. Eat at Mediocre Restaurants
8. Be Uncomfortable in My Own Home
9. Use Any Electric Hairstyling Tool
10. The Dreadmill
1. Kid parties are loud and chaotic affairs which are, by definition, full of children. This is a stage of my life that I am thrilled to be done with and have zero interest in revisiting. And allow me to say that the amount of Actual Parenting that takes place in general Anywhere by the current generation of "Parents" is approximately a teensy weensy bit. If any. I think you understand my position here.
2. I hate all cards. I don't get the point. They are ridiculously expensive, and once you get them and look at them, then what do you do? I do not save cards. It's a terrific waste of money. Send me an e-card. Send me a text message. For a death, I write a lovely letter in which I share a remembrance of the departed and offer comfort and a specific service if I can. And do not get me started on Christmas Cards, which have become ridiculous in many cases.(My next-door neighbor used to mail a card to me. Why?)
3. As you all know, I am a collector, appreciator, and enthusiastic drinker of wine. I don't really think I am a Wine Snob. But I'm not going to drink any more crappy wine just because It Is Wine and people know that is what I drink. "I'll get you a glass of wine," someone says at an event. And I am sitting there with a glass of awful chablis or red something, gamely choking it down. Never again.
4. All gift showers are tedious, trying events at which the women are marking time until they can safely leave without hurting anyone's feelings. Now they are huge, catered events in some cases, held at halls and arenas with ice sculptures and dancers. No, we don't want to play little games or win candles and pot holders and picture frames. We just want our cookies and a chance to leave. I will just be sending a gift to the house.
5. I used to shop at Macy's in my hometown all the time. Then, seemingly, it was taken over by aliens from the planet Sad-N-Dowdy. Last year, I walked in, and after a half hour of wandering all over the female clothing departments, I finally found a salesperson. I said to her, "What happened to this store? Where would I find clothes that are...I don't know...not this?" I'll spare you the rest, but suffice it to say that she could not help me and I have not been back.
6. Last year at this time, I got a short, choppy pixie, which after a week or so, I regretted steadily until about last week, when I finally liked my hair again. Then I went to get A TRIM. But the stylist did not do that, and she gave me A HAIRCUT instead. From now on, I am cutting my own bangs, and that is the only haircut I am getting for the rest of my life.
7. There is a lot of bad food served at restaurants, and it's depressing. I'd rather eat out a lot less often and pay more for a truly excellent meal. Most restaurants in our area are putting out food that is nowhere near as good as what I can make in my own kitchen, and with fresher ingredients. I'll save up and go to a pricier place, or get good Chinese takeout.
8. In the winter I don't mind wearing a sweater or snuggling up in a blanket if I'm on the couch in my jammies in the evening. In the summer I don't mind having the ceiling fan on. But I am not going to be shivering or sweating in my own home in the winter or summer, either. This is Civilization, and we work(ed) hard to have money to be able to have heat and airconditioning. Especially heat. I am not going to suffer in my own home.
9. From highschool through more than half of my teaching career, I was a slave to either hot rollers or a curling iron. I even had a curling iron with the metal hot roller bristle thingies! It's like my hair was my hobby or a Lifestyle Choice. Now, if it can't be accomplished with a blowdryer and a round brush at the most, tough.
10. I'm over it. Period. Dr. B., my neurologist, was horrified that I was even using a treadmill to begin with. And I hate it with a passion. (Hence my name for it, dreadmill.) It's no wonder that it used to be a prison device for hard labour punishment. I'd rather bundle up in the winter and risk a fall on icy sidewalks. I'm not kidding.
I can't wait to hear what you all are ready to cut loose and say "Never Again" to.