2014-12-31 12.39.27-50


I didn’t think turning 40 was any kind of big whoop, so when the day came I did not drop my basket. I realize that for some people, turning 40 is a crisis, but I don’t get it. I’m going to save freaking out for my 90th birthday when I realize I’m gonna die pretty soon because that’s just nature’s way. It’s too soon to phone it in at this point.

All that said, there are things about being 40 that are a bit of a bother.

  • It all comes full circle when you find yourself calling your mom to ask her questions about hot flashes and other ridiculous shit because your hormones are suddenly like “later, bitch!”
  • Incidentally,  your pre-tween daughter is coming to you with questions about her boobs.
  • Said pre-tween daughter now takes the same size shoes as you do and will be wearing your clothes by this time next year. The good news? Your wardrobe just doubled. The bad news? So did hers.
  • That puppy you got as your “practice baby” when you were 28 is now deaf and wearing diapers. After successfully potty training two babies, you’ve totally nailed the diapering thing and so “practice baby” is now just a cruel joke.
  • What metabolism?
  • You have to switch positions during sexy time because the sound of your cracking hips is too distracting.
  • Pooping on the regs is no longer a thing. You find yourself actually considering buying that Activia yogurt stuff. If it’s good enough for Jamie Lee Curtis, it’s good enough for you!
  • Depression and anxiety once experienced in younger days and expressed through emo poetry and random poo poo baby blog posts now comes out to frighten your family (and sometimes even you). When will mommy turn into a raging thundercunt? Nobody knows!
  • Your shit is falling apart, and you find yourself collecting “ologists” now instead of cocktail recipes: Cardiologist, Gastroenterologist, Gynecologist, Rheumatologist, and coming soon Gerontologist! When that day comes, I’m going to write my first musical. It will be brilliant.
  •  Grey hair, wrinkles AND acne. This seems gratuitous.
  • My doctor is younger than me and I do not trust that he knows anything at all. He probably doesn’t know who The Goonies are and I cannot have it. Next doctor I find who can name all of the goonies is going to be the winner. There may be a high five in there somewhere too. Can you high five your doctor? You can if it’s the right doctor.
  • Something always hurts for no particular reason. This changes daily and sometimes hourly.
  • I realize I look like my mother. This is not a bad thing, but it’s taken this long for the resemblance to really present itself as we now have matching wrinkles. Hers are just 25 years deeper is all.
  • Nirvana is now considered “classic.” (shudder)
  • I smell weird.

The end.












Christmas Card Roulette


This is my real address book.  It is not a joke.

It’s left over from 10 years ago from my baby shower invite list.  It’s evolved over time as people have moved and/or died and/or turned into assholes or whatever, but here it is in all it’s glory.

The list lives in a drawer full of other junk I have no […] Continue Reading…

O Crissy Where Art Thou?

So here we are folks.  20 days have passed and I am feeling like a motivational failure.  FAILURE.  Which definitely explains why I had chocolate cake for dinner.

No.  I did it because chocolate cake is delicious and we’re all going to die anyway.  Look for my new book, “The Absurdist Diet”, hitting bookstores never because THC.

So devoted fans, followers, […] Continue Reading…