45 And Still Disorganized

"For every minute spent in organizing, an hour is earned." Words to live by. The only problem is, it's hard to get organized when your thoughts are all over the place. I try to jot them down so I could put them in some kind of order but this is what I find when looking for a clean page.

The six-year old's lunch request: french fries w/catsup, ham, ?, ?, ?, lobster, Chinese broccoli, ?, SOS, ?

Finding a clean sheet of paper in our household is about as easy as locating where that "smell" is coming from. It's my fault really. I've always urged my little guys to write and draw just as much as to sit and read. Besides, it's nice to come across a page that's scribbled with "I love mommy".

Oddly, they never write little love notes for daddy. Perhaps they know it would be met with a comment like, "Dude, that's gay," and so they refrain, choosing instead to show their affection by using him as a daybed.

Daddy could stay in this position with a monkey on his back, look at the computer and drink a beer. Guess the Yoga workouts really helped.

Speaking of Yoga, I haven't been doing it but I am running in the morning while the kids are off at day camp. I'm not patting myself on the back, however, as vigorous exercise will be put on the back burner just as soon as the kids are out of camp and in my hair again.

Wish I could say I feel great but the truth is, when you're old like me, working out is just a way to get to know the deteriorating parts of your body through excruciating pain. My knee caps feel like they're going to pop right off and my leg muscles are so sore I can't get off the toilet - other than that, I'm just peachy.

There's really no good reason for torturing myself this way, I suppose it's just a mid-life crisis. Men buy fast convertibles to sport around a new girlfriend half their age, and I run as fast as a convertible - parking at Stop and Shop.

To celebrate another year towards menopause, my husband took me out in style. A half crispy duck and dried sauteed sting beans at Nice restaurant on Bayard Street truly hit the spot. It's your typical, no frills, great-food-rude-service restaurant where the waitress yells at everyone for everything.

"NO, YOU NO WANT PEKING DUCK! IT'S TOO MUCH FOOD FOR YOU! YOU WANT CRISPY DUCK! IT'S HALF - GET CRISPY DUCK!"

So, the German couple behind us ordered the crispy duck, like their waitress suggested, and the large table of French tourists ordered a plate of shrimp Lo Mein. I know this because she brought it to their table and announced it like this, "SHRIMP LO MEIN!? SHRIMP LO MEIN!? SHRIMP LO MEIN!? SHRIMP LO MEIN!!!"

I don't understand why she couldn't find a small open spot on the table full of food and just rudely shoved it in. Perhaps, she's not as rude as I made her out to be.

Dried sauteed string beans in green glory!

Crispy half duck - enough food for you!

The restaurant from the outside - scary

Finally, nothing settled the score finer than a pint at our favorite Shark bar. It's actually named the Spring Lounge but locals call it the Shark Bar, as do I for the stuffed sharks on the wall.

It's the perfect "people watching" spot with a view of Spring and Mulberry streets. My husband spotted a group of teenage kids, one was walking with his hand down his pants. When he withdrew his hand, he promptly smelled it and grimaced.

Should've used soap.

The Shark Bar or Spring Lounge