- I’m a 44 year old professional living in the Bay Area
- I have two teenage boys and a fluffy lap cat
- I have a serious need for distraction
I have an obsession with alt rock, cocktails, brazilian waxes, and girl gadgets. I am fascinated by my cousin’s lack of inhibition (which surpasses my own), her love of nudity (her own), and her teeny tiny underwear. I’m a serial dater since my divorce 13 years ago and I have been on some entertaining dates and quite a few scary ones.
You may notice that this site is dedicated to all things frivolous and fun about me. Rarely if ever, will you read a post on politics (unless it’s to lobby for kissing competency tests in high school), health care (unless it’s about the prevention of ingrown hairs after a Brazilian wax), or education (unless I’m blogging fantasies about my former law school professor).
I like this blog precisely because I can be lighthearted and silly. If I make fun of anyone, it’s mostly myself, sometimes my dates, and occasionally my sons (but only because they are hilarious young men who entertain me constantly).
I like the frivolous me. The frivolous me forces me to enjoy my life and never take anything too seriously when the type-A overachiever in me is stressed out about being a single mom and qualifying for Section 8 housing; while the mother in me is reminding me that I missed out on having more kids; and the lover in me is reminding me that I miss having a partner; and the financial planer in me is bitching because as of 8 pm yesterday my bank account balance was woefully low; and the ambitious career woman in me is reminded me that even though I have a BS in Biology, 1 year of law school, and 25 years of work experience, I still get asked to stock the kitchenette at work; and the daughter in me is worried because my father is blind and my mother has a heart condition.
So, grant my my frivolousness please. It’s not for lack of substance, it’s because there’s so much of it.