On my birthday.. no need to talk to the manager.

It was the best of birthdays: it was the worst of birthdays..

Nah..I'm kidding. 

 I thought quoting Dickens would be a classy ice breaker to describe what it really turned out to be:  the BEST..only the BEST.. of birthdays!!

My first Covid birthday!

And hopefully, my last...

Not my last birthday, my last Covid-birthday..

'cause if I bring in my 66th in 2022 and there's still a strain of this virus, or a mutated version, if there is still no theater, or parties, or movies, or vacations, if there's still no hair straightenings or waxings, still no justice in D.C, still no..

OK..I'll stop.  There will still not be any crossing over the Rainbow Bridge, or whatever the human equivalent is of that, because I'm not done yet.

Especially after Jim's big surprise tonight, but I took these notes before THAT happened, so bear with me..

I felt a love of birthday love here on Facebook, from strangers and acquaintances, from friends and friends of friends.

My SIXTY-FIVE year old eyes were having trouble keeping up with the deluge of well wishers, trying to acknowledge every acknowledgement with an acknowledgement, so if I called you by a different name, say, that of my cousin when you're actually a high school friend, it's because all the messages--that outpouring of pure love--blended together into one ball of acknowledgement.

Love is love is love(Lin Manuel-Miranda) and I felt a lot of it all day, covering me like a blanket decked with photos from some of the happiest memories of my life.

I'm still ferklempt over that unexpected package--the  special, unexpected gift from my brother's family, or as Luke likes to call it:  a new chew toy.

But wait..there's more!!

Jim tried to sneak in a Carvel cake, and I want to publicly thank  the icer for not giggling when she wrote" Karen" on the cake.  She spelled it so it looked like K-A-I-E-N--a name that is so hard to pronounce that she'd spend all her time explaining it instead of demanding to see managers.

Flash forward to tonight, when Jim took Evan and I to my favorite Italian restaurant.  He presented me with the first surprise of the night..a T-shirt with a Karen joke(yeah, yeah, I'm laughing too) and a card with dogs that he signed, I kid you not, "Love, Jim and KAREN"!!..(and Evan and Luke.)

We were grateful that there was only one other family seated in the place with the spaced out tables--unfortunately, it was a family of hyenas. 

 OK "Uncle Chris"..we get it.  It's your birthday.  Now keep those kids quiet and keep them away from us.

The dinner was so relaxing, until Jim decided he had to photograph the meal, resulting in Evan's phone getting spritzed with hand sanitizer(don't ask) and the first Diet Coke I had in months winding up in my lap. (Again, don't ask)

I couldn't stay mad at him for long..I knew there was ice cream cake that needed defrosting, and three nights of Jeopardy! to be played on Alexa.

We're about to start the third game, when Jim yells out:  "I've got to go to the bathroom!" and runs upstairs like a mad men.

I was confused at first--why would he leave the game?

Then I was grossed out:  "Diarrhea!??" I guessed to Evan.

And then..then I was MAD..because I heard voices in the upstairs bathroom.  

"If he's faking a stomach ailment to take a WORK call during a milestone birthday during a PANDEMIC" I thought...

..But then I didn't have to think much more.

He plopped down the lap top and there it was..the best surprise party of my life!

A ZOOM party without worrying if I had onion dip breath or if I'd get a seat, anxieties I have in a real life gathering.

My great niece Shoshana told jokes and made me see a future Sarah Silverman: her brother Eyli bounced around like a monkey I'd see on the original "ZOOM", the kid show Evan watched in grammar school, their Mom Miriam was being her sweet and wonderful self, showing off the cake that Shosh drew for me, that looked a little suggestive but I absolutely loved it, and all  the hilarious and topical commentary from my nephew Scott..

..and then my awesome niece Marissa with all her awesomeness, and her hilarious fiance Todd who told me my favorite Woodloch staffer might make an appearance(he couldn't at the last minute, but it's the thought--the glorious thought--that counts) and Steven and Jane being the best brother and sister in law  in the universe..

I was at a loss for words.

Jim and Evan didn't just surprise me, they SHOCKED me..shocked the gloom and doom right out of my soul, giving me the BEST birthday party I ever had.

I missed my family so much and we were all here, in all our glory, with all our accidentally muted buttons.

Pure happiness:  it's just  a click away!

Covid be damned..it was the birthday celebration of the century!

Thanks to my amazing husband and son for making January such a warm and sunny month.

I am the luckiest Karen in the world!

My new blankie..

to my fellow Aquarians (and to Pisces as well):

We're experiencing something new in 2021--pandemic birthdays.

Most of our zodiac friends have already been through this--drive by parades, zoom parties, marking milestones with just one family member. 

 Or maybe marking the milestone with just one candle, one cupcake, one person, the lonely honoree.

My Big One--the Social Security one--is still just under a week away, and if you read my posts regularly, you know I've been in a pandemic funk, like everyone else.

(The veil was lifted two days ago, with the swearing in of someone who can and will turn things around, but that's an entirely different kind of optimism and celebration)

I thought the only kind of party I could anticipate this year was a pity one, and I was fine with it.  

Or at least, I made peace with it.

I haven't left the house since Thanksgiving except for a few medical appointments. 

 (Now I sound OFFICIALLY like a geriatric--talking about doctor visits)

There's absolutely nothing wrong--except for the stress of waiting for (generic!) stress tests results.  It's been over a week, and I really don't feel like facing that treadmill and its warped speed again.

But I digress.

Of course,  I'm looking forward to getting the vaccine. I'm on a list..but the list is as long as Trump's naughty list.

I long to travel again, and to blog about my exotic journeys, but at this rate, I'm afraid my journey will only be on a gurney..perhaps with a  Sanders meme.

(A journey on a gurney with Bernie)

I've already been deluged with early birthday wishes and generic cards and run of the mill phone calls..mostly from mid-eastern men who want to discuss my car insurance.

All appreciated but the last item, of course.

Flash forward to today, when a package arrives, addressed to me.

I couldn't imagine who could possibly be sending me anything--yet alone what  the contents could possibly be. I haven't sent--or received--a package in years.

Luke gets biscuits(that he turns into weapons on a nightly basis) but I don't get anything but bills.

So imagine my SHEER delight when I opened the bag and saw the second best gift I've ever gotten in my life.

(The first was at my Sweet 16 in 1972.  My cousin Andy threw me off course by presenting a fairly heavy box, and I took my Mom's bait when she said it contained "pajamas and a heavy robe".  I've got 8 milimeter proof somewhere, but imagine my utter joy when I unwrapped the box to not uncover pajamas, but something I'd use while WEARING pajamas..my own TV!  A black and white portable that was mine alone, for my bedroom, for an indulgence in "The Dick Cavett Show" every night! A surprise gift from my brothers!)

The luckiest sister in the world just got the second best  surprise gift of a lifetime..third if you count the TV as the 2nd, and having a sibling like him as the first!)

I will totally treasure forever that warm, snugly blanket, decked with photos of every important memory from my sixty-five years on this planet.

You included everything that ever made me happy!

So next time I get those pandemic blues, I'll pick myself up, dust myself off, treat the blanket like Linus treats his... and be truly grateful for my terrific brother..and his amazing wife and kids!

You guys are the best!

Promising young movie

If you are a Proud Boy, a Trump supporter, a victim of toxic masculinity, a misogynist, or any combo of the above,  then I cannot recommend one of  the best movies I've seen in a decade, and not just because it doesn't star Vin Diesel and it's not about NASCAR.

If, however, you love dark comedies, revenge thrillers, shows like "Dead to Me", "The Morning Show",  and/or  "Dietland," or movies like "Thelma and Louise" or virtually anything  directed by Quentin Tarantino,  you will be thanking me profusely for ordering you to purchase Amazon Prime immediately if you don't already have it.

We were laughing, gasping, quivering, riveted, and totally blown away with the performance by Carey Mulligan and all her co-stars in "Promising Young Woman."

This OLD woman can PROMISE you this:

You will not be bored.

If Carey Mulligan does not win the Oscar, I think my feminist friends and I may form an organized protest outside of the..hmm..what theater will play host to  Academy Awards held in this year?

We're not going to break down the barricades and muddy up the rest carpet; we'll just stand in unison, chanting "Mulligan Was Robbed!"

My God, this was a PERFECT movie...

The Ten Commandments.. Karen style..

as a skeptic who wished her Mom a heavenly birthday just yesterday, I've been thinking about religion a lot lately.

And not just in my usual, snarky, questioning way...I really need some answers. 

 Suggestions and guidelines  on how to cope with the chaos in the world.

I'm not sure if this is exactly divine intervention, but SOMETHING told my brain that I can cope the way I usually cope--post something on Facebook that'll get a few likes, a few laughs, and a lot of snubs.

Today I was specifically thinking about the Ten Commandments, and how many of them I've willingly or unwillingly broken.

First of all, everyone SHOULD thank God that it was Moses, not ME, who was sent to the top of Mt. Sinai to receive those tablets.

I wheeze and huff and puff from walking up a small hill kids sled on: by the time I reached Sinai's summit I'd be hallucinating.

I can't even imagine how Christopher Plummer carried little Gretl Von Trapp  up a mountain while escaping Nazis in "The Sound of Music".  

Although having taken the "Sound of Music" tour while visiting Austria in 2018, I knew it was a mirage anyway, because the Swiss Alps were thousands of miles away, and little Kym K ate a lot of wiener schnitzel during filming  production, so Christopher Plummer  couldn't have easily lifted her and transported her up the non-existent hillside, which was  reportedly alive with the sound of music.

I do obey the first commandment. 

 The only God I've ever put before the real one is perhaps Randy Rainbow.

The second commandment tells us not to make yourself into  a carved image, but that was written long before anyone knew what I could do with glue-on googly eyes, colorful yarn, and an empty toilet paper core.

The only time I take the Lord's name in vain is when I step on Luke's half-eaten dog  biscuits in the middle of the night in the pitch dark.  He manages to make them into weapons, although truth be told, I drop the F-bomb, not the Lord's name in vain, most of the time when it happens.

Not sure I remember to keep the Sabbath Day holy, but I do remember most of the lyrics to "A Sabbath Prayer" from "Fiddler on the Roof"--does that count?

The next commandment tells us to honor our fathers and mothers.

This one is quite controversial.  I think I honor them by making fun of all their quirks and tics: others might (rightfully!) point out that I have to learn to forgive them for smoking.

I have never committed murder, this I know for sure,  except when singing "The Sabbath Prayer" from "Fiddler."

(I breathed in a lot of second-hand smoke growing up(sorry again!) my voice is not a good match for such a stirring tune.)

Have I committed adultery?  

Only in my mind, with Jimmy Kimmel or Ethan Hawke, but with the latter, ONLY in the "Before" trilogy.

I HAVE violated the "Thou Shalt Not Steal" commandment. 

 I stole exactly three Archie comic books and two pieces of candy from a farmer's market when I was a kid, and just recently, I stole a Facebook joke, just after President Trump got banned from social media, that said "Lindsey Graham has been permanently banned from Grindr"

Oh come on..who wouldn't steal that one?

I'm not sure I've ever borne false witness against my neighbor, only because I'm not exactly sure what that is.

And I KNOW I've never coveted my neighbor's wife!

And not just because I'm cis--I don't rule out anything, but my neighbor is married to a wacko.

(He'd be more upset if I coveted his lawn mower, but that's a  story for another time)

I am blasphemous and irreverent, I know this.

But I can't watch CNN anymore--I'm still so shaken  by the image of monsters smearing our capitol's walls with their disgusting bodily fluids and solids, so if this is a coping mechanism, I'm going to cope.

It's either sarcasm or I try to scale a mountain, and I figured only one of those options would  actually land me in the ER.

(

Movie going.. the 2020 version..

It's not an exaggeration to say we probably see 40-50 films in the theater every year.

 (We're in the movie house almost daily for Christmas releases alone)

In 1990, I started carrying a pocket calendar, for the sole purpose of jotting down the movie's title, and transferring to the computer when I got home.

I did this because too often, weeks later,  I'd forget what I had just seen, although I could usually recall which theater, and the friends we saw it with.

I was dedicated to this--sometimes I'd grope around in my pocketbook, trying to find the notebook and a  pen in the darkened theater if I remembered to do this task  too late.  (It was always fun trying to decipher my handwriting when it came to typing in the names permanently on the computer.  I'd have only sporadic light from the big screen, but I still managed to jot down the movie's title, and when I got home, I'd go straight to the computer and give the movie a rating from poor to excellent.)

The really wonderful movies got an "excellent" in caps--or with exclamation points.

But I made a (dumb!!) promise to myself to only type in the movies we saw in an actual theater.

Last night, I broke my own stupid rule and decided to start keeping track again, as I wrote the title in my pocket calendar and then  typed it on the computer in a permanent file.

When I opened the file..

I was shocked!

There were only seven titles listed in 2020! 

 Obviously, we streamed a lot more movies than that, and I could kick myself for not writing everything down, as it's hard to remember now--I can't even make my Ten Best or Ten Worst lists--but wow!!

 Seven movies seen in the theater!  

That's so..so..I was going to type "depressing" but let's just say that was so 2020!

But thanks to my New Year's resolution, I wrote down last night's treat in the pocket calendar as well as typing it into a permanent file.

The gem is a tour de force for actress/director/writer Radha Blank, who plays Radha, a sassy, sexy, fat, funny, raw,  brutally real playwright with aspirations of becoming a Rapper.

Not to be confused with "The 40 Year Old Virgin"--no body part was waxed, nobody screamed out Kelly Clarkson's name in pain, in "The 40 Year Old Version".

Try to catch this on Netflix if you can.

And hopefully, with my resolution to keep track of the stream, I can remember to recommend the exact title of what to see and how to see it.

That pocket calendar kept track of my pre-menopausal cycle too--so not needed these days..but let the movie-going-experience begin!