Lawn Bowling Anyone?

Laying in bed this morning, this was my thought process: I have the day off and I kinda wanna get out and see people.  But I also really don’t wanna get into an overwhelming social situation full of well-meaning extroverts that will leave me drained and vaguely irritated.  What I’d really like is to host a read-in and serve ice cream to a select few of my lovely friends. 

Then the mail came and there was my AARP card, again.  I’ve been getting AARP cards in the mail since high school despite being about 30 years too young and living in half a dozen different places since then.  As I tossed the red and white envelope into the trash I finally realized what the universe has been trying to tell me for the last decade.  I'm not young at heart, I'm old at heart!  And that is the perfect introvert-friendly party theme.  

Ideas for your next "Old at Heart" party:

Invite a few close friends, read large print mystery novels, do crossword puzzles, listen to opera, knit, wear comfortable shoes, write letters to your elected officials and overshare about your bodies.  (queers do the last two on their own anyway)  Serve soft foods, an assortment of teas as well as stevia-sweetened biscuits for the diabetic party-goers.  The party should start at 7 am, or 3 pm if you're up for making it a  dinner party, in which case you may need one of these:

You could even provide optional earplugs for guests seeking a more authentic experience.  Yes.  If people my age behaved more like the elderly I’d be a much more social human.   

So, where can I get a croquette set?  And if I make jello in a bundt cake pan do I hafta grease it first?  That sounds nasty but how else do you get it to come out so perfectly?  I clearly have a lot to learn about elderlydom before I can do this party theme justice.  I think I’ll start by repairing that old quilt my dog chewed up while listening to Betty Whites audiobooks.

*image 1 from futureofthecookbook.com (did anyone catch the "jello relish"?)

*image 2 from thekitschbitsch.blogspot.com

*image 3 from inmagine.com

Tears for Queers

Tonight I went to Madame Butterfly instead of Queer Al Anon.  And the experience was healing in a way.  I still cried and saw lots of queer folks.  Though in this context "queer folks" refers to creatively dressed elderly people.  My top three favorite outfits of the evening:

1. A woman draped so heavily in stinky fur she looked like a Russian czarina.  I think there were still mothballs in the pockets. 

2. A very wrinkley shirt made of paper.  It was tearible.  (haha, pun)

3. A woman in a magenta sequin minidress with a red plaid hunters jacket and granny glasses.

Now it's time to snuggle up with my pup for some post-opera recovery time.  That was a lot of emotion.  I’m pooped.  I wonder if suicide hotline hits spike when three thousand people leave a theater after Madame Butterfly.  Kelly Kaduce had me crying so hard my boobs are now salted.  

Incidentally, opera snobs: her name is pronounced kuh-DOOS not kah-DOO-chey.  Mispronouncing her name will not make her Italian and pronouncing it correctly will not undermine her authenticity.  She is a magnificently talented white lady from Minnesota.  Embrace it.        

Possible new tagline for the bloggy blog:

From rape fetish to opera seria, ladyface is your lady!