Reminder?

It's hard to admit, but the older I get the more I realize my memory isn't what it used to be.  As a result, I've become a "list person".  I have them everywhere.

Colorful Post-its are on the bathroom mirror each morning so I'm reminded of what my day ahead holds (and so I don't go back to bed with the snooze button off).  There's a long yellow legal pad crammed full of "to-do" things to remember.  My iPhone sends me "Reminder" messages literally day and night, and I can't live without the phone's timer and alarm to help me remember the most important things and, when and where I need to make them happen.

In short, the need for all these reminders makes me think I "got stupid" somewhere along the way.

But I felt significantly better, when, on my 55th (gulp) birthday of all days, I discovered this important "reminder" that apparently the general public needs.

This sign was posted on every single pump at a gas station I stopped at when visiting my family last week in Ohio. 

Seeing it made me feel So.  Much.  Better!  It's a note I have never written to myself.  Phew.  Maybe I'm smarter than I thought.

Hope you're having a great Sunday.  Stop by Unknown Mami's for more Sundays In My City.

Welcome to www.TheFiftyFactor.com  -  Joanna Jenkins

Timing Is Everything

Every since I took this picture last weekend, I've been thinking about timing and the impact the phrase "in the right place at the right time" has had on so many of the paths-- large and small, my life has taken. I realize this isn't a fabulous photograph-- the butterfly is a little blurry and it's not framed all that great, but it's the fact that I've never seen a blue butterfly before and that I just happened to be in that exact spot at that exact time to snap the photo with the wings showing my favorite color blue that's made me so happy.

When I checked my camera to see if I'd captured the butterfly before it flew away I was excited as a school girl which is an oddly unusual thing for me to do. It's been many decades since I was even remotely considered "a girl" and the excitement it generated was pretty out of proportion for me. Nevertheless, I started thinking about the times in my life I've "been in the right place...."

The top of my list would have to be the airport in Milan, Italy where I met my husband thanks to a very delayed flight back to Los Angeles. The odds of us both being in the same place at the same time with a third person who could introduce us is so out of the norm that I hesitate to think what would have happened had I slept in that morning 22 years ago and taken a later flight.

There was another time everything worked perfectly in my favor and I was directly outside the hospital delivery room at the precise moment my oldest niece was born....Which actually meant that several other people were NOT in the right place at the right time *ahem*security*cough* so I could sneak into that area of the hospital. I was even more lucky that the head nurse took pity on me and actually brought my niece out for me to hold when she was just minutes old. I get a lump in my throat just thinking about how beautiful and tiny she was in my arms.

And then there was the time I was in the doorway of Godson's kindergarten at the end of the day to hear another child ask him who the lady was picking him up. His deadpan response was "she's my wife". Being in the right place at the right time gave me one of my fondest memories of carpooling him after school.

It's the little things-- and big things-- that make me appreciate "perfect timing". Why the blue butterfly has me taking a trip down memory lane remembering these things is a mystery but I'm enjoy the mental tour of the finer times of my life.

Have you been in the right place at the right time?

Welcome to www.TheFiftyFactor.com - Joanna Jenkins

Looking For A Lifeline

As part of my recent interview on blogging with Societe Amore, I was asked if I was "addicted to blogging".  I didn't think I was, but I honestly said I checked my blog and email multiple times throughout the day.  I thought it was no big deal.

That interview was done before I went out of town for five (painfully long) days with limited Internet access.  It was one of those non-stop, whirlwind trips, but despite 18 hours days, blurry-eyed, I still squeezed in at least an hour a night to "check-in" with the blogosphere.  

Busted!  I'm addicted.  

Or am I?

I realized I was not so much addicted to checking my blog, I was addicted to checking yours!  Since my time was limited on the trip, my frustration rose as I tried to figure out the most efficient way to read blogs.

Here's my dilemma.  Before I started blogging, I'd spent a sum total of 15 minutes in the blog world!  Translation:  I didn't have a clue how things worked.  So every time I found a new blog I enjoyed, I clicked on whatever link, bookmark, subscription or follow button (if any) they offered, so I could revisit them.  Now I have several different lists, with over 200 great blogs that I read regularly, but no easy way to keep track of them!  

Even though I use the "favorite blogs" gadget on my own blog, with a short list of faves, 200 favorite blogs is way to many for that feature, isn't it?  The page would scroll for a mile.  

You might have noticed, from my previous posts, that I'm usually freakishly organized, but I'm also one of those people who can't remember names but I recognises faces. Well, in blogging, as you know, it's multiplied ten fold.  I remember photos, user names and blog names but I can't remember who goes with what.  It's making me nuts!

So, my dear blog friends, am I missing something when it comes to tracking favorite blogs and their owners?  Is there one universal way to keep track, a secret handshake I need to learn, or a simple step in the equation that I'm missing?  I really need your help. Otherwise I might miss you, lose you, or end up in the loony bin for stressed out blog addicts.

How do you keep track of your favorite blogs?

PS--  To thank you in advance for your advice, here's a tip for you....

This might sound crazy, but here's a recipe for the greatest hard boiled eggs I've ever tasted!  You'll be happy you tried it!  xo

Welcome to The Fifty Factor  -  Joanna

At the Intersection of Foggy and Forgetful

Am I losing my mind or what?!?!

Today I was in such a fog that I didn't remember about plans to meet friends for dinner at a restaurant this evening. I mean, I completely forgot even though my husband and I had discussed the details at breakfast! And what do you think I did right after breakfast? I went grocery shopping to buy food, to make for dinner, at home, tonight! Let me tell you, when I finished shopping and schlepping and putting food away and then getting food out to start cooking, I was exhausted.

About an hour after the spareribs had been slow cooking in the oven, my husband asked what I was doing? Actually, he looked at me like I had three heads and asked WTF???? As I stared back at him blankly, he knew it had happened again. And-- he knew to slowly back out of the kitchen, without saying another word, so no one would get hurt.

I'd forgotten about dinner out. I hate when I forget things-- and it happens all the time!

Several months ago my memory had really gotten out of hand. I was sure I was loosing my mind and well on my way to Alzheimer's, so I talked to my doc and she recommended a full battery of neuropsych tests to see if, in fact, at age 50, dementia was setting in. Holy crap! I was so stinking scared.

So off I went for 8 straight hours of testing at a major University hospital, with a psychiatrist, in a small office, asking millions of questions that made absolutely no sense to me. I mean, I knew what he was asking, I just didn't know WHY and what on earth they could possibly have to do with my memory loss.

He started by telling me to remember the numbers 29, 18, 62, 91 and 6. I knew this test was coming so I seriously tried to remember them. That was followed by lots of picture drawing, card playing, pattern making and simple math. I was feeling pretty good because it was all so elementary and simple, and my memory was great; plus I remembered 29,18,62, 91 and 6.

After lunch, Dr. Freud stepped things up big time. I realized, to my shock and horror, that I wasn't having memory problems-- Apparently, I just an idiot!

For example, he gave me a pretty high level math test-- that was timed. And I couldn't use a calculator! When was the last time you did three dozen calculus problems without a calculator-- in 5 minutes-- while you're trying to remember 29, 18, 62, 91 and 6? To be honest, I never even took calculus in school but I guarantee you, if I had, there would definitely have been a calculator in my hand!

Then, after freaking out over the math, Dr. Freud started asking me random questions like who's the Queen of England (duh), Marco Polo (I had to think about him for a minute.), where the Grand Canyon was located, stuff like "Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader?". I was holding my own, right up until he asked me to name the Continents-- You know, North America, South America, Antarctica, Australia, Africa, Asia and Europe.

Sadly, at that very moment, and for the next painful few hours, despite being asked at least 30 more times, all I could think when asked to name the Continents was-- Poughkeepsie, New York! What was that about!?!?! Oh, and I remembered 29, 18, 62, 91 and friggin 6!

This type of memory loss-- the kind where information just falls out of my brain never to be seen again-- was exactly the type of memory loss that brought me to the neuropsych test in the first place! I know the Continents; I've even been to four of them for crying out loud. But as upset, and frankly embarrassed, as I was about it, I found comfort in the knowledge that finally the doc would feel my pain and understand my memory loss dilemma.

Not exactly. Dr. Freud wasn't buying it. A mental block with Poughkeepsie, NY flashing in my head was not on his memory loss radar. He thought I was just plan stupid. I know because he kept flipping back to the page with my education information listed and asked where I went to school-- As if I'd lied and it was a trick question-- And then he'd ask me to name the Continents again. Damn! I must have had loser written all over my forehead.

The testing continued for two more difficult hours. It got tougher and the questions were way out of my league! I did not remember what year Lincoln was elected president, how far the Wright Brothers flew, or how to convert inches into centimeters; and I'm not sure I ever really did. It's not the kind of dinner conversation that would stay on the tip of my tongue for decades. Nor was I able to count cards for sequencing, or retell stories with extensive details. But I did know 29, 18, 62, 91 and 6.

I felt more and more defeated as we pressed on and frankly, pretty sure I was on my way to assisted living behind locked doors in the very near future. At the end of the day, Doc sent me home with instructions not to worry and that he'd be in touch.

Two weeks later, there I was again, across the desk from Dr. Freud. He gave me my test results and assured me that I was "just fine". Alzheimer's, dementia, memory loss, whatever was concerning me was NOT an issue. Phew!

But here's the kicker-- Doc explained in way to much detail, that I am an average middle-aged woman (I cringed at his words.) with an average middle-aged education, (See, I told you he thought I was stupid), living an average middle-aged life (I need to get out more!) with an average middle-aged memory.

WFT!

And I was suppose to feel better about that! Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled I'm not on the fast-track to Alzheimer's but what's with all the AVERAGE, MIDDLE-AGED crap?

I pressed him for more details and he politely and a bit condescendingly pointed out that "at my age" I was just fine. But if I was say, 70 years old, well then I'd be below average. And if I was 30, I'd be above average. And that was supposed to make me feel better? It did not.

Doc went on to say that my "strengths" would make me a great quilter and I have good recall for faces (but not names). Eureka! My new middle- ged career chould be making face quilts! Who knew! He also said I'm an "alpha-dog" and a "bit of a rebel". Really? Dr. Freud lost me on that so I asked which tests I took proving my, um, "strong qualities". Apparently they had to do with the card games we played-- The card games we played where I always lost!

Oy.

I hadn't talked to my gal pals about the testing in advance but now that I wasn't "losing it", I told them about my situation and the very expensive "I chould be an average middle aged quilter" tip from Dr. Freud. Apparently this type of thing is common with them too! Not the testing, the memory loss. They blamed it on menopause and had a good-hearted laugh at my expense. They called it "the fog" and "meno-brain" and I felt better. Sort of.

So now that my house smells of delicious spare ribs that we won't be eating until tomorrow night, and since I know I do not have Alzheimer's, the only thing I do know is 29, 18, 62, 91 and 6.

And you know what else? Dr. Freud never, ever, ask me to repeat those numbers back to him.

What are you forgeting?

Welcome to TheFiftyFactor - Joanna

10 Lessons Learned From My 50th Year

As I reflect on my first 365 days as a "fifty-something"," I realize I've learned a few things.  Some good, some bad and some, dare I say, sensible.

For the record, at 51, I still do not like being 50-anything. The word fifty does not roll off my tongue, it more like spits out when I can't avoid saying it.  Throw in menopause mania on top of it, and well, the morning of my 50th birthday is still a distant, painful memory, to say the least.  You see, 50 and menopause hit me simultaneously like a mac truck.

Over the past year, it seems like so much has changed-- other than just my body.  I'd like to think I've learned something in the past 12 months and half a century on earth, but believe me, there are many, many days when all I've learned is that I don't know jack!  So now, as I face my 51st year head-on, I'm making note of a few things I did learn but wish someone had warned me about...

1)  I do not look "40-something".  Period.  I look pretty good "for my age" but that age is now 51 and I'm not fooling anyone when I don't fess-up to it.

2)  Many women in their fifties, and facing the cringing realities of menopause, prefer not to talk about it.  I, on the other hand, am going into it kicking and screaming-- I write and rant about it all the time.  Others prefer to keep it under-wraps, are in denial or believe the "new forty" applies to them.   Whatever works ladies!

3)  My husband doesn't care how old I am; he loves me unconditionally.  That's a nice feeling and one I've come to believe with age.

4)  I have less patience these days-- a lot less.  I remind myself to take breath and let things go, but honestly, I'm shocked at my short fuse and hope I can blame it on menopause-- Which means eventually it will get better?

5)  It's true, damn it!  My metabolism has come to a screeching halt.  There are not enough hours in the day, to rack up enough miles on the treadmill, to thin things out again.  I'm afraid I'll have a permanent speed bump in the middle of my stomach for the rest of my life--  Not a happy thought.

6)  If I don't make a daily list and carry it around with me, I will not remember where I'm supposed to be, or what I'm supposed to be doing.  That's a fact of life these days.

7)  I'm more aware of my big picture "Things To Do In Life" list and make a concentrated effort to make them happen.  At the top--  Dancing at the Rainbow Room in NYC before it closes for good, see Paris, learn to make the perfect pie crust and, as crazy as this sounds, grow corn.

 

I'm also learning to accept a few things that will never happen again, like (8) looking good in a bathing suit-- those days are over.  (9) Gone is my ability to wear 4 inch heels for hours and hours at a time.  Oh how I love a great pair of heels, and have a closet full to prove it! Unfortunately, I now also have several pairs of sensible shoes-- Because I've learned (10) my aching feet need them.  

But, oh well, along the way, I've gained character, confidence (well, sometimes), a great credit score and, occasionally-- the reality check of common sense.  

If only I could wear those ruby slippers and click my heels together three times....  

I wish!

Welcome to TheFiftyFactor  -  Joanna

Glittered Platform Pumps by Christian Louboutin - $775

Am I Being Punked?

Am I losing my memory, losing track of time or just plain losing my mind?

A woman trying hard to turn back the hands of time, actually needing an alarm clock around her neck to remind her what time it is, has to be one of the all time worst jokes ever played on a menopausal woman.  So where's Ashton Kutcher?  I want to slap him silly.

The problem is, lately I seem to have lost all sense of time.  It just flies by and the next thing I know it's dinner time... or Wednesday... or Memorial Day... or the party is today, not tomorrow--at our house!  Throw in those gawd awful "menopause moments" when my brain is like a black hole and well, I feel like I'll be a scattered mess until the end of time.

But today I found a life-saving invention!  Think alarm clock on a rope.  My new discovery is a wind up timer, that's on a chain, to hang around my neck, so I'm never at a loss for time again!  

These days I'm time-phobic so I bought five of them.  Count 'em FIVE of them!  They're a bright, lemon yellow color and tick, tick, tick so loud it's easy to keep track of time.  The best part is, when my desired time is up, the alarm RRRRRINGS so loud it could wake the dead.  Now there's no way I can miss a single minute!  

Trust me, I will not wear the alarm around my neck when I leave the house.  I'd sound like a crazy ticking time bomb and in this day and age I could land in the slammer.  But I do have one in my car in case I arrive somewhere before I'm actually  supposed to be there.  I'll set the timer so I'm not late, even though I'm already early.

Time's up, gotta go.

Welcome to TheFiftyFactor.com  -  Joanna

Aging Successfully

When 99 is the new 79!

Did you ever notice how some people just have "it"?  They are smart, interesting and have a great sense of humor.  They're the ones who are attractive, accomplished AND humble.  I have a friend like that and he just celebrated his 99th birthday.  Yep, NINETY-NINE big ones!  But, if you didn't know better, you'd swear he was only 79.

We're great friends and have been for years.  We talk at least once a week and have lunch every other week.  It's hard to get on his busy schedule so I plan ahead and always make a date, on our date, for our next date.  

When we're together, I secretly study him to try and figure out what his secret to "it" is and in doing so, wonder how the heck I can get "it" too.

His memory is better then mine ever was.  He swims every day and travels extensively.  And yes, he dates, a lot-- some pretty hot ladies who fall into the "80 is the new 70" category I might add.

I think his secret to aging is to always keep his mind busy.  We've all heard that before.  But how many of you know a 99 year old who's a whiz on the computer, attends 4-5 evening music concerts a week, sits on the Board of Directors to multiple major organizations, attends a variety of lectures each month AND has a great family life?  I'm telling you, this guy is way beyond Suduko!  He is serious about staying active, alert and loving life.

Today I discovered a new wrinkle and started to feel sorry for myself.  But I thought of my cool, older gentleman friend and turned off the magnifying mirror, turned on some classical music (his fave) and danced around the room.  Then, I attempted the New York Times Crossword Puzzle-- in ink!

What's your secret to staying young?

Welcome to TheFiftyFactor.com  -  Joanna

MEN-o-pause

If men went through menopause would it be a pretty picture?  Consider some of our most well-known hunks doing the MEN-o-pause thing...

• Daniel Craig:  Imagine junk in his trunk!
  
• Simon Cowell:  Sobbing uncontrollably over a mushy love song.
• George W. Bush:  "Wanted Dead or Alive" would have a whole new meaning.
• George Clooney:  Sexy and sweaty.
• Spiderman:  I'll never wear spandex again!
• Gordon Ramsey:  In prison for torching the kitchen.
• David Beckham:  Where's my soccer ball?  I had it just a minute ago.
• Patrick Dempsey:  Please god, do not touch the hair!
• John McCain:  Had a menopause moment when he picked Sarah Palin.
• Leonardo DiCaprio:  King of the Insomniacs.
• Robert Downey Jr. aka Ironman:  I'm too bloated to wear that-- and fly!
• Pierce Brosnon:  Lifestyles of the rich and sleep deprived.
• Tiger Woods:  No golf today, I have a headache.
• Bill Clinton:  What happened to my sex drive?
• Brad Pitt:  Does this stroller make my butt look fat?
• James Gandolfini aka Tony Soprano:  Now he's really !@#$%^& psycho!
• Tom Cruise:  Last seen roaming the vitamin aisles mumbling to himself.

Do you have any male menopause suggestions?

Welcome to TheFiftyFactor.com  - Joanna