the
M
words

I grew up in Manhattan on the upper East Side. Years later Jackie O.’s condo was a couple of blocks away. Ritzy, huh!

But the block I lived on–East 65th street and Madison Avenue—the apartment I lived in– small and dark above my grandparents’ stationery store—not ritzy.

The fancy ladies who came into my grandparents’ store seemed so different from anyone in my family. 

First came their perfume (Joy by Patou), then their Lillie Dache hats, white gloves, pearl necklaces. The sun never touched their skin but blue eye shadow and ruby lipstick did. They bought du Maurier cigarettes, Vogue magazine, and tall Will & Baumer ivory candles for their dining room tables.

I wanted to be one of those women.
I thought they all had perfect lives.

Didn’t find out until much later that fancy schmancy doesn’t assure anybody of a perfect life. Who has a perfect life? You know anybody? If you do, you don’t know them well enough.

Doesn’t’ matter who’s rich or not, educated or not, gorgeous or not.  The fanciest ladies—and you and me– have so much on common—the M words. Life’s ups and downs happen to all of us

Those M Words

Menstruation

Groan, moan, aw, uggh, argh …from “The Curse” to “Aunt Flo” the only thing that’s changed is what it’s called.

Make-up

Don’t even take the garbage out without lipstick. Never know who you’ll meet at the dumpster.Manicure

Do mine myself. But miss reading the salon’s gossipy magazines about who had bad facelifts, what celebrities name their babies, who’s in bed with who, and other stuff I don’t care about.

Malls

You remember where you parked?

Markdowns

You can resist?

#metoo

Me too.

Miss, MS, Mrs.

Which one was best? I keep changing my mind.

Marriage

Okay. So I did it 3 times. You got to practice.

Monogamy

Man problem!

Motherhood

6 kids in 7 years–best years—but they grow up.

Mother-of-the-Bride

Childbirth is easier than being mother-of-the-bride.

Mother-of-the-Groom

Even less important than being mother-of-the-bride, if that’s possible.

Mother-in-Law

No matter what they think, Livia Soprano is not my role model!

 

Makeover

I’m a before.

Menopause

So why don’t men go through it?

Mammogram

Go.

Memories

No two people remember what happened the same way. If I thought there were M words I wouldn’t remember, I’d get amnesia in a hurry.

My grandmother used to say, “Never envy anybody. You never know what goes on behind closed doors. Even Miss America can have hemorrhoids.”

You’re just a button click away– and I’d love to hear from you.

About your world, your family, your joys and frustrations, growing up, growing older, even recipes–even though I stopped cooking–by request–years ago.

Goodbye until next time…

Hope your day turns out as well as I hope
(but doubt) mine will,

Gingy (Ilene)

◂
▸