More Things I’m Not Allowed to Do Because #Aging

Use smartphone apps while wearing contacts. The only reason I wear my contacts at this point is sheer vanity. Wearing my glasses (they’re Progressives, just like me!) I can see everything. Wearing my contacts, I can see that there is a phone in my hand, with some colored tiles on it, and I can see when people text me, though what they are texting me remains a mystery until I take out the contacts and put the glasses on again. I honestly didn’t realize this photo was blurry when I posted it on Instagram, I just assumed it was my eyes.

Oh heyyyyy I think I saw you near Melrose Place #mom2summit

A post shared by Nancy Davis Kho (@midlifemixtape) on May 12, 2017 at 6:17pm PDT

Sure, I could blow up the font on my phone like many of my friends do, to the point where they’re seeing about 1.5 characters before they have to swipe left. Or I could wear reading glasses. But if I’ve resorted to giant fonts and wearing reading glasses on a chain, why bother with the contacts?

All of which I had plenty of time to ponder the other night, after I left a bar that is 10 minutes’ drive from my house, where I’d gone to meet my friends Michelle and Michelle (collectively, Los Michelles.) It was a big girl night, ending late, so I dutifully punched the bright pink tile that I deduced was the Lyft app, then punched whatever buttons followed, like a 21st century Helen Keller (who has hearing and the power of speech and also isn’t actually blind.) I finally held up the phone to the younger of the Los Michelles – like I was going to ask the one complaining about hot flashes to read it for me –  and said, “Read this” and she said, “Ok, your ride is coming and your driver is Manley.” (Which is, strangely, not the punchline of this story.)

What she didn’t say was that I had chosen the “Lyft Line” option which is cheap, yes, because it’s a carpool, and I spent the next 45 minutes trying to stay awake as Manley drove me and a clutch of Millennials around Oakland, dropping all of them off first. The good news is I saw parts of Oakland I didn’t know existed! The other good news is that Millennials saw a Gen Xer out after midnight! The other good news I have sworn off Lyfting While Contacts Lensing.

Buy white shirts. Don’t misunderstand – I am a huge fan of plain white tops: tshirts, button downs, puffy shirts. Virtually everyone looks smarter and more rested by wearing the right white shirt at the right time (though not even a white shirt can help .) But the extent to which this philosophy informs my life became clear on Memorial Day weekend when I set about cleaning out some drawers and closets. The resulting “to donate” bags look like contraband seized from an illicit White Shirt cartel (gang members are referred to as The Crisps.) I don’t think I’ve walked past a white shirt in Size 8/M in a retail setting and left it there, since at least 2010.

And when I drop off the shirts at Goodwill on Saturday, I doubt that the Size 8/M white shirt rack stands a chance.

Hey there Delilah! It’s a Plain White T’s song that isn’t Hey There Delilah!

Start watching the Bachelorette for the first time. I do not like Reality TV, Sam I Am. I blame it for the schande that is now running the Executive Branch, and I’ve avoided a good 97% of its programming in my life. However, when your college age daughter finally comes home from her first year at school, and is only home for a month before she leaves to work at her summer camp counselor job, and says, “Do you want to watch The Bachelorette with me?” I am Team I Love Reality TV Because It Lets Me Snuggle On The Couch With My 5’9” Daughter.

So we start watching last week and I have questions. So, so many questions, a veritable Lifetime™ of them. I will not bore you with my questions, because my daughter gets that honor for the remaining days that she is surely counting down with extra fervor now. I will say that I have a lot of advice for the lovely and talented Ms. Rachael Lindsay and I shout them all at the television, most but not all including the words “Do not insult us or yourself by keeping Whaaaabooooom!” (And I don’t even feel guilty because Roxane Gay says we should all be watching this season.)

Conduct a polite conversation. As you can tell by reading numbers 1-3, in which I manage to point the conversation to #45 within two sentences, I am now constitutionally unable to conduct a conversation free of politics. Maybe it’s because I’m so angry at how our country’s being kicked around by its “leadership,” maybe it’s because my make-nice estrogen levels are dropping, maybe it’s because I love my job and the opportunity for advancement I have here at Professional Paid Protestor International (thanks Soros and Cuban!) (This is sarcasm.) (If you need me to explain that this is sarcasm, you should probably just navigate away from Midlife Mixtape right now. These are not the droids you seek.) Whether you’re handing me a loaf of bread over the bakery counter, sitting next to me on an airplane, or praying next to me at church, rest assured we are going to be talking politics within 90 seconds.

Space yourself accordingly. (But please, not so far that you can’t read my phone screen to me.)

                   
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