I’ve been FORTY! for exactly thirteen days and now I have a lizard eye. Specifically, I have a lizard-y eyelid. It seems a portion of my left (and only my left) eyelid has decided to become painfully dry and flaky. It is annoying and the urge to constantly pick at it is great. However, picking at it hurts and the urge to not be in pain is even greater.

What does this mean? It means that FORTY! is the magical age where you Google shit like “flaky eyelid,” “do you put eye cream on your eyelids?,” and “is eyelid one word or two?”

Since I was already in the Google Danger Zone (really, I’m surprised I did not discover I have a rare form of eyelid cancer and have about 8 minutes to live), I set out to see what was going on with the herblings.

I spend a lot of time worrying about the Oregano. As you can see above, it is not thriving. It’s not dying either. It’s sort of just maintaining. This is not acceptable. Oregano’s siblings Cilantro, Mustard, and Sage are kicking ass at thriving. I still don’t know what is wrong with the Oregano.

However, I have discovered what is wrong with the Chives, Garlic Chives, and Sweet Marjoram. It seems we have a case of Fungus Gnats. Isn’t that just about the nastiest thing ever? Fungus Gnats. Because fungus and gnats weren’t disgusting enough on their own.

The second I discovered I had The Fungus Gnats all my hippie, organic, pesticide-free ideals went right out the window and I set about figuring out what kind of Napalm/Agent Orange/Toxin concoction I needed to eradicate these teeny-winged pests. Apparently you can use something called Neem Concentrate, which sounds kind of scary. You can also use something called Mosquito Dunks, which sound kind of awesome.

Some super-hippie on a message board suggested sprinkling the invaded plants with cinnamon which will kill the fungus and thus with their food source destroyed, also the Fungus Gnats. Since I had cinnamon in the house I went with that option. This had the benefit of helping erase the final, clinging odors of the Great Father’s Day Fried Chicken Failure of Twenty-Twelve. So there’s that. I’m still totally getting me some Mosquito Dunks though, because that name is so awesome.

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For most of my life (especially after Sister #4 came along in 1980 and stole my birthday thunder) I’ve wanted my birthday to be all the time, everyday. For most of my adult life, I’ve worked really hard at making sure my birthday has spanned as many days as I could tolerate. Now that I’m 40, I think I can go back to having just one day of birthdayness a year. Well, at least for the next decade.

The Internet makes birthdays a lot of fun.

You’re a special kind of grammar curmudgeon when your own cousin points out how she kept the punctuation to a minimum in her Facebook birthday greeting.

I got a stick blender and I cannot wait to use it.

In a phone meeting today one of the women I was meeting with made a comment about once she turned 40 she started to forget thing and managed to acquire adult-onset ADD. The other woman said she was looking forward to that when she turns 40 in September. I then, even though I wasn’t gonna, busted out that TODAY WAS MY BIRTHDAY! And while discussing my celebrations one of them asked me how I felt the day after my party this weekend.
“Oh fine,” I said. “I don’t get drunk anymore. It’s not worth the three-day hangover.”
“I remember when hangovers were only a day,” she said, kind of wistfully.
“I remember when I didn’t even get hangovers,” I said full of spite and bitterness.

You know what kicked the most ass today? Barb Abney playing My Three Songs on The Current. In case you missed it, my three songs were:

1. I Will Dare, The Replacements
2. Polyester Bride, Liz Phair
3. Sick of Myself, Matthew Sweet (I thought about going with “Someone To Pull the Trigger”, because duh, but it seemed a little morbid for a 40th birthday)

Speaking of Barb she made a crack about 40 being the new 20 and I said, I sure as hell hoped not because my twenties were a pile of embarrassing stupidity. She agreed. I think most women would.

You know what kicked the second most ass today? My friend Malmsy (the artist formerly known as Trip Shakes) sending me a picture of a record his elementary school choir made. The awesomeness nearly melted my face right off.

I think I had more to say, but The Tibbles called to wish me a happy birthday and now I’ve totally forgotten what I was going to say.

The post A few thoughts on turning 40 appeared first on I Will Dare.

Now that my hair is fixed (I swear to Ellen Willis that’s the last time I will mention it and if you got to the homepage of I Will Dare you can see it), I’m all birthday all the time. While the actual anniversary of my birth isn’t until Wednesday (June 6), the celebration of the anniversary of my birth is on Saturday.

I’m crazy excited about the party and bought three different kinds of M&Ms today for the M&M buffet.

Also, since it’s too early to make the potato salad, I set to work making a playlist for the event. While blowing off work, I decided the playlist would only include songs that were popular during the years I’ve been alive. I immediately hit the Billboard Hot 100 for 1972 chart and was delighted to see “Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl)” on the list.

While trolling through the seventies I came across a ton of songs I knew. And, believe it or not, a ton of songs I own, three hours worth according to iTunes. I was a little surprised by the number, but then I remember that one month I was obsessed with owning every song mentioned and/or played in the movie “Almost Famous.”

I discovered a few things while making this list (which is already 10 hours long and I’m only to 1991).

1980 was the year I started loving music

Sure I know (and love) a lot of the pre-1980 songs, but I don’t have any real, concrete memories of listening to those songs in the time they were popular. 1980 though? I’m all up in that Blondie, Billy Joel, Kenny Rogers goodness. I can remember listening to those songs, usually on my parents’ 70s-era stereo that had an eight-track tape deck. I wonder if everyone’s musical memories start around eight or if mine just developed late because I wasn’t raised in a musical house.

Speaking of the 80s. . .

While I was surprised how many of the 70s hits I owned, I was a little dismayed by how many of the 80s hits I didn’t own. For real. I have no INXS. No Bryan Adams. No Men at Work. No Pet Shop Boys. No Culture Club. It’s like I hardly know who I am. I do have a lot of Whitney and Hall & Oates. So there’s that. But as I pondered this strangeness I decided that much of my 80s cassette-based music collection never made it to CD and thusly never made it to Enid’s harddrive in some form or another. Also, I guess, I didn’t care enough during the Napster heyday to download every 80s song I ever memorized. Weird, huh?

Thus proving my theory that I’m really a 90s girl or at least I thought I was

Things were going swimmingly with the Billboard Hot 100 charts until 1989. This is when my music taste went left of the dial. No longer was my soundtrack comprised mostly of Top 40 hits, and as I fell into the 90s my tastes were so far gone that there were artists and songs I’d never even heard of. For instance:
Drs, Gangsta Lean
Real McCoy, Another Night
Duice, Dazzey Duks
Jeremy Jordan, The Right Kind Of Love

If you gave me sixty-six kabillion dollars I could not hum a single bar or name a lyric from any of those songs — and I consider the 90s my musical coming of age. Apparently I came of age far, far away from the Billboard charts. Also, there was not a lot of grunge to be seen on those charts. That surprised me too. Sure there was a Nirvana song, and one from Pearl Jam that must have been off Yield or Vitalogy because I didn’t recognize it.

I quit about 1992 because my attention span is shot and now I’m going to have to put some actual thought into the list.

Tangentially related: I love the song “Dreamtime” by Darryl Hall.

The post My musical memory starts in 1980 & other tales from the birthday playlist appeared first on I Will Dare.