Loving Lola

It’s Christmas Eve tonight, and I’m pretty much all alone - my brother is on his way to Mexico with his in-laws, friends are at various family functions, and anyone else I know that doesn’t celebrate has seemingly forgotten about me! 

Christmas is happy for a lot of people, and for some not so much. For me, this year is “not so much.” I had a rough year, and there were definitely times that I did think “I’m just so exhausted from dealing with everything on my own, and I can’t do it anymore.” But whenever that would enter my mind, I would turn to ball of fluff lying next to me, and immediately smile. You see, on a very cold, snowy, grey January day in New York, almost 4 years ago, unemployed and depressed, I did something I had been wanting to do for years…became a mom… a dog mom, that is!

For as long as I can remember, I longed for a dog. I’m sure this longing was wrapped up in the fact that I never had kids, had a very fractured childhood and had been alone for a long time. Working 12-hour days for an advertising agency made it impossible for me to have something that would be so dependent on me - how could I leave a puppy alone for so long every day – it didn’t seem right, and I would feel guilty every day.

As I lay in my bed that cold January day four years ago trying to decide what to do with my life, I knew the time to become a family of 2 was here. All my life, I was very happy and content living alone, but inwardly I longed for live and to love something...unconditionally. I didn’t know if I could be responsible for another living thing, and it scared me. I had friends that would say “you’re going to be tied to home,” or “you’ll never be free again.” I was ok with this - I was 51 years old - if I stayed out till 11pm I was happy. I knew getting a puppy would drastically change my life, and I was ready for the change – little did I know exactly how much my life and myself would change from said puppy.

After an exhaustive search on puppy find websites, I found a breeder that had adorable Shih Tzu/Bichon  - these dogs are called “Shichons,” or “Teddybear” dogs. I immediately saw a picture of a 5-week-old girl named “Pepper” - she was white with brown spots on her torso and around her eyes and she had a look about her that said, “take me!”  I fell in love right then and there – I put a deposit on her and arranged for her to fly into Newark Airport on February 13^th when she was 8 weeks old. Originally, I had in mind to name her “Bella,” but when a friend said to me “there is no way you can name her Bella – that is the number one girl dog name!” After looking it up, I realized it was true and, anyway, looking at Pepper’s picture, she didn’t seem like a “Bella,” so Lola it was.

As I was nervously waiting for February 13^th to arrive, I was alternatively petrified of a) keeping Lola alive, and b) worried that she was going to be boring with no personality. So, when I drove to Delta Cargo on that 10-degree day I had no idea what to expect. I showed the attendant my paperwork and ID and a few minutes later he came out with a little travel crate. I opened the door and inside was this little 2-pound ball of fluff that came out to me right away. I wrapped her up in my coat, got in the car where she started crawling all over me – as if she had known me forever. After 5 minutes I was in love and knew I did not have a boring dog.

I likened being a dog mom to the same as a human mom, in that you’re never really 100% prepared for how much your life will change, and you really have no idea what you’re doing in the beginning. 

For instance, I had no idea that puppies sleep…a lot…like newborn babies. The second night I had Lola, my niece was with me and a friend came over to see her. Lola was very lively, running around my apartment and playing, etc. and then she basically passed out. I thought she was dying, and made my friend watch her while I raced to the drug store to get a rectal thermometer to check her temperature, which I then made my friend stick up her butt. After assuring me that she was ok, I finally believed her and realized that having an 8-week-old puppy was exactly like having a baby – and I was completely clueless. 

I also would wake Lola up in the middle of the night to go potty on her pad, since I read that puppies need to pee every 3-4 hours. Every night I would take her out of my bed and put her on the pad in my living room. I would look at her and gingerly repeat “go potty on the pad” about 20 times a session. Lola would just sit there and star at me, with her big black eyes, that I knew were saying “what are we doing out here at 3am?  Finally, after about what seemed like an eternity, she would give me a pity pee just so we could go back to sleep. 

There was also the time, I put a 3-pound dog in my bath tub to bathe her instead of just putting her in the kitchen sink – the poor thing was holding on for her life - I’m not sure who was crying more during this process.

All of this is nothing compared to the angst and agony of buying food for your new fur baby. When I was growing up, dogs ate Purina or Alpo – either dry or wet - and that was really the only choice you had to make. Now, when you go to your pet store you are met with row after row of food options – there’s dry, wet, raw, semi-raw, freeze dried, frozen, refrigerated, dehydrated, limited ingredient, etc. And, lest I forget, it absolutely must be grain free. Yes, just like us, dogs are not allowed to eat carbs either. My head was spinning as I wandered around Petco – I wanted to feed my baby the best puppy food but had no idea what was best. I became obsessed with dog food and surveyed every dog owner I met as to what they fed their dogs. 

Through all this, Lola thrived and I managed to not feed her grapes, onions, macadamia nuts, chocolate and other various death traps for dogs – we lived through her having a parasite at 10 weeks, a sore bum after getting her first vaccinations, getting spayed, where I cried like a baby when I had to drop her off, and the nightmare of dropping her off at the groomer the first time where her cries at being separated for me still reverberate in my head. It was torture hearing my little girl cry at being separated from me, but it must be done. Just like mom’s have a hard time dropping their offspring off at nursery or daycare for the first time, dog moms are no different. Our dogs become our babies – we love them, nurture them, teach them, play with them, sleep with them, comfort them – just like humans. The bond is the same.

We had become a team -  I relied on her as much as she relied on me, and in short order she became my best friend. I take her everyplace with me - planes, trains, automobiles - we’ve done it all. My family and friends think I’m crazy sometimes because she is always with me, but I’ve come to rely on her companionship as much as she relies on me to take care of her needs every day; and besides, I meet a lot more people with her, than without her. For someone who lived alone their entire adult life, I finally realized how important it is to love something unconditionally and be loved in return. Whether it’s from a dog, cat, human – it fills you up and nourishes you. You become a family unit like any other.

Whenever times get shitty, and believe me, I’ve had some crappy days this year, all I have to do is walk in my door and hear the pitter patter of four feet coming towards me like she hasn’t seen me in years, look at her adorable little face, and I instantly forget my troubles and smile. I never felt love like this, nor have I ever given love so unconditionally - It fills me up every day, and I can’t imagine living without it now.

With Lola I’m never alone anymore – yes, I do not travel as much or go out as much – but that’s ok because I can’t even remember what life was like before the joy of loving a dog came into my life. 

A World Without Men...

I think it's safe for me to say that the male species are fucking up our world in a major way!


In the past few weeks the United States has the largest mass murder of all time, a second mass murder in a church in Texas and as I write this another multiple shooting in northern California. Then you have Harvey Weinstein and every other male actor/producer/director in Hollywood that has taken advantage of their power positions and abused what seems like the entire population of Hollywood for the past 20 years. Not to mention, all the wars throughout history, rape of women and politicians trying to take away women's rights and send us back to the 18th century.

I love men, and hate to single out an entire species but let's face it - the world would be a better place without them.

The bottom line that nobody wants to admit, is the United States has become the laughing stock of the rest of the developed world. When my European co workers talk about the United States now, they refer to it as the "wild, wild, west." They can't understand how we are ok with everyday people walking around carrying weapons that belong in a war zone. They can't understand why our government allows citizens to be killed every day all under an Amendment that is 400 years old and wasn't meant for this sort of thing. They can't understand how our government is unable to make any changes to this Amendment all because our politicians are given huge sums of money by a lobbying group called the "NRA." It's beyond their comprehension, and mine as well.

Putting all that aside, the truth is, in the United States, we have become a country that has raised multiple generations of deviant, misogynistic men. Men who feel no shame or remorse for actions that are abhorrent.

According to the Huffington Post, "the number of American troops killed in Afghanistan and Iraq between 2001 and 2012 was 6,488. The number of American women who were murdered by current or ex male partners during that time was 11,766. That’s nearly double the amount of casualties lost during war. This is only the tip of the iceberg as it pertains to violence by men against women."

All throughout history, women have had to defend themselves against men who felt it was their right to abuse women physically or exert their power over women into doing things that they are not comfortable with. In reality not much has changed in the past few hundred years in terms of men taking advantage of women.

So, I ask myself what is the common denominator in all of these acts of violence against women and innocent children and people, and the answer is "men." Try and imagine how different things would be if women were in charge of everything. War? forget about it. Mass murders? Nada. Domestic abuse and rape? Maybe, but very low amounts. Imagine, a place where every body can go about their daily lives without fear of being shot or sending their kids off to school without worrying that some psycho is going to gain entry and take out a semi. No casting couch, no having to climb the corporate ladder to get ahead. Sounds like bliss to me in this day and age.

Women are not naturally violent - we are problem solvers that want to be liked and respected. We don't have the ego issues that men have - this need inherent in men to prove their power and dominance over the population at large. We're not going to take our rage against whoever did us an injustice - whether it's a lover, spouse, employer - and leave the house with an AK47 and shoot up a concert or school. It's not to say, we don't get angry or do bad things - it's just that we are able to work it out and handle ourselves in a mostly non-violent manner. We're problem solvers, skilled at negotiating with husbands, kids, parents, in-laws - we are wired to find ways to co-exist with others as peacefully as possible.

I love men, and think that they do have their uses, but when I can't feel safe going about my normal life, when I see a room full of men deciding what I can and can't do with my body, when I don't trust the people in power to do the right thing for our Country, when young girls have to cover their drinks in bars and clubs to make sure they don't get drugged and raped there is something seriously deranged and dangerous with the species as a whole.
I find the world today scary in a way that I never did before. 

Maybe it's because I am older now and things affect me more deeply. In the past, I never really cared much about politics - I've voted both Republican and Democrat in the past and consider myself a "centrist," but what really amazes me is that I feel increasingly unsafe in a world that I used to feel reasonably safe in. Standing in line at CVS before, there was a dissatisfied customer at the register - inside, all i'm thinking is I hope this guy doesn't get too pissed and whip out a gun. I hate myself for even thinking like this, but this is what is becoming the norm in our society. What is going on in the world in which we, as a population, become used to mentally unstable people going into schools and shooting little, innocent children, shooting innocent bystanders at a concert, domestic violence against women? I tend to think I would be safer walking around Afghanistan than I would be going to a Target these days.

I love the idea of an all-woman society. Besides the fact that I would probably save a fortune on hair and beauty products, I wouldn't have to panic whenever I feel bloated, or gain a few pounds because other women don't really care what you look like - it's about what's inside that matters. I also wouldn't have to worry about "ugly man/tiny wife" syndrome - which is when you see a fat, ugly man with an attractive thin women. We have this phenomena due to the fact that woman are ok with a man being "less than" in the looks department as long as he has other redeeming qualities like a good personality or is rich. But men, on the other hand - even when they are not the best looking feel naturally entitled to the beautiful woman.

When Wonder Woman came out this summer I was happily surprised to find out that she comes from an all-women paradise known as Themyscira - where the women are warriors, protecting their paradise from men and the outside world. It's interesting because you don't see or read about men wanting an "all-male" society - only the women - and who can blame them. Women have been targets of male rage and anger for centuries and the thought of all all female society, where they can be safe and nurtured is appealing.

Millennium Hall - published in 1762 by Sarah Scott - tells the story of an all female society in the 18th century, when women had practically zero rights. These women are taught skills to better themselves, education is important and property is owned and shared as a group. Women in the 18th century had no rights and were at the mercy of men on every level. They depended on them for food and shelter since they were not allowed to be educated or hold jobs - so again, we see the appeal of an all women society.

While a world without men, may not be a reality, the idea of an all female world is hardly a new concept -  it seems more timely than ever in today's day and age where we, as a species have to deal with the consequences of men that have deep anger issues and hate issues and feel empowered to take that anger out on innocent people. 

Ageless?

Why can't I be ok with aging?

I really want to be like Oprah, Deepak, Tina Turner and others who try to convince me that getting older is the greatest thing since sliced bread. Of course, I probably would be much happier if I lived in a huge estate in Montecito, traveled by private plane and had money to spend on the best of the best in health care and new medical technology. But, unfortunately, I am not on board with this mind set yet.

Don't be fooled by the countless celebrities you read about telling you how fabulous it is to be in your 50's, 60's, etc. I love when I hear someone like Jennifer Aniston, who I really adore, say she "wants to celebrate aging," and "life doesn't stop after 50." Life doesn't stop, but the only real upside to life after 50 is that you're not dead!

I'm sick of reading about how free you feel to be you and do what you want - yes, you do attain a certain amount of acceptance of you and all the wonderful idiosyncrasies that make you you; but on the other hand, I could take a week's vacation and spend it all going on doctor visits.

But, with all your newfound acceptance and peaceful inner self comes aches, pains, worrying and my personal favorites - the countless drug ads for everything from arthritis, leaky bladder (only for women), blood pressure, depression, memory loss, Alzheimer's - all with a list of side effects that could put me in the hospital, if I don't already die from any of the aforementioned illnesses. My blood pressure automatically rises every time I have to go to the doctor and they put that cuff around my arm.

And when I tell you I could take a week's vacation just going to doctor's, I'm not joking. By the time you reach 50 there are a lovely bunch of medial tests waiting for you to let you know if you are in danger of dropping dead anytime soon. If I wanted to, I could have a colonoscopy, stress test, heart ultrasound, mammogram, bone density and a multitude of blood tests. I also need to go to a sleep lab because I no longer can sleep without waking up 20 times, and I may have sleep apnea and then have to sleep with an oxygen contraption. I also need to go to an orthopedic doctor for my aching back. You see after years of running, pounding the pavement of NYC and general wear and tear my back is in need of some attention.

I really envy the young adults of the world that can take a high deductible insurance plan as they only go to the doctor once a year. I remember those days, and I long to have them back. The days of youthful naiveté, the beauty of not worrying if the pain on the left side of my head is a headache or a brain tumor.

Of course, woman have more to worry about than their male counterparts. In addition to worrying about aging out of corporate America, aging in general and becoming irrelevant as a target market - we also have to worry about our insides rotting away, declining hormones, grey hair on our head and grey hair in places we really don't want grey hair. You know what I'm talking about! It seems like a cruel twist of fate that women have to bear the burden of bleeding every month for 30ish years, birthing children, and lack of hormones - isn't just getting your period every month enough?

As i head into my 55th year, I can't help but long for that mindless obliviousness that comes with youth, and those halcyon days when menopause was something your mom had and "hot flashes" were not part of your vocabulary.

George Clooney

Dear George,

Now that the dust has settled on your wedding and we're left to fawn over the 20+ pages of pictures in People Magazine, I want to say Congratulations!  You guys gave us quite a romantic show cruising up and down the canals of Venice with Amal wearing one gorgeous outfit after another.  I am sure that every women out there fell a little in love with you, and a little in love with her clothing budget!

Me, I've always thought you were the ideal man.  It was as if God took Cary Grant and mixed him with you and unleashed the result on the female population.  Smart, cocky with a self-deprecating sense of humor, can drink tequila until the sun comes ups and still wake up looking fine. You love your parents, traveled to the Sudan with your dad and are probably the only guy that could play a really horrible Batman and still have a career afterwards. We heard you pound into our heads, in every interview where they ask you the same questions, that you do not plan on ever getting married again. For this reason, we didn't mind that you dated a string of waitresses, Italian actresses and a wrestler because we believed you when you said "I'm never getting married again." All it takes is one person.

So, while I'm still dealing with the riot of emotion that I feel from this monumental occasion, may I say "well done," George.  You have restored my faith in Hollywood leading men.  You could have gone down the road of so many of your brethren and continued to date a string of starlets a generation, or two, younger than you that you that you had little to nothing in common with - we were pretty sure after you ended your relationship with Stacey Kiebler that we would see another feckless female on your arm at some awards show.  Instead, you shocked us and started dating a women who is, pretty much, above you.  It took a smart, beautiful, bewigged barrister to take you down! You were probably shocked, in the beginning, that you had met someone you can have an actual conversation with about something other than movies - someone who you had common interests with who didn't have nude pictures or sex tapes floating around. You finally met the one women who had her own life, and didn't really need you for anything. Kudos to you for being smart enough to snap her up!

Also, "well done," Amal! You will forever have the title as the women who got George Clooney to "put a ring on it!" You landed the prize - the big kahuna, the one that every female all around the world dreamed of getting, and none did. It only makes sense that London's most eligible barrister should meet and marry America's hottest man. You and George have now usurped Brad and Angie and are now the new King and Queen of Hollywood. Gorgeous and smart, you gave us hope that there are actually men out there who love being with a smart, independent women.  I read that you turned "gorgeous" George down a time or two before you finally agreed to go out with him.  I'm pretty sure that is classic "Rules" 101, but it obviously works and I will be dusting off my copy this weekend.

In the end, even though I, not so secretly, lusted after you for many years, mazel tov! You have exceeded the expectations of all women kind, and we thank you for not being just another stereotypical Hollywood male!

Kate Middleton Syndrome

OK, I will admit it - I have a semi-unhealthy obsession with Kate Middleton.  But not for the obvious reasons you would think. Yes, she's gorgeous, tall, thin, doesn't take a bad picture and snagged a Prince - all good reasons to hate her.  But that's not it!

As someone who grew up in a broken house with parents that didn't know which end was up, I feel insanely envious of her upbringing.  Let's face it - she had fantastic parents! Carole and Mike Middleton did a great job bringing these 3 kids up to be happy, confident, well adjusted people. Not an easy thing to do in today's day and age.  Carole Middleton is a self-made women who, let's face it, wanted her children to have an upper crust eduction and mix and mingle with the progeny of aristocratic families. She should write a book on how to bring up healthy, smart, confident children - I'm sure it would be a best seller.

When I look back on my childhood, it was pretty much a mess.  Parents who really should never have gotten married, let alone have children.  Acrimonious divorce, custody issues, money issues, a mother who really just wanted to be single and party, and a father who had no idea what to do with two teenage children. Having a stable, close knit family like the Middleton's was something I fantasized about. Although my brother and I are close now, it wasn't always so.  We have not even lived in the same house since we were young.  I have often wondered how different things would have been with at least one able bodied parent, let alone two. Because of this, I struggled a lot with self esteem issues, fear of intimacy and commitment.  Sometimes, I think back and I wonder how I even made it this far - my brother and I pretty much raised ourselves, as we had very little parental support growing up.

Kate, on the other hand, had none of these issues.  Growing up in the secure environment that she did, she knew that she was loved and had the support of her family no matter what.  Instead of the British press putting Carole and Mike down for being "middle" class, they should have been applauding them for raising kids that have not had drug issues, gotten arrested, embarrassed themselves or their family. I know Kate has been criticized for not doing much with her life before she got engaged to Prince William, but really it's not easy to date a prince and have a career.  What is she supposed to do when William calls and says "let's go to the Seychelles for the week" and she can't get off of work? When you're dating the future King of England, work takes a back seat.

There's a lot to be learned for modern women from Kate.  She's obviously not a feminist - instead she's basically a throw back to the 50's in that she has basically put her man and their relationship first and foremost. She's known to have cooked for him while at University, and later on while they were living in Wales - she has made sure he has a nice home to come home to and a good roast chicken. Men, when it comes down to it, are simple creatures - at the end of the day they want a hot meal and someone to come home to who's not going to nag them to death.

I suspect Kate used her mother as an example to model her relationship with William after.  It's pretty obvious that Carole has a backbone of steel and calls the shots in her marriage - she started and runs the family business, picked the best schools for her children to go to so that they meet the "right" kind of people who will prove to be valuable connections in life as they get older.  Kate too, is made of steel - it's not easy to take all the sniping and criticism that came her way for years prior to her marriage, and continues to this day.

You wouldn't think it, but I'm pretty sure it's Kate that calls the shots in her relationship with William - she's known to have persuaded William to stay in college after he wanted to drop out after his first year.  The beauty of Kate is that she does it quietly...ladies, take note.  She has a pretty famous quote from when they were younger and dating saying "he's lucky I'm going out with him!" That pretty much sums up the amount of self-confidence this girl has. Most girls would think the opposite, I'm so lucky "he's" going out with me, but it's only someone who is so extremely secure with herself who can say that and mean it. I wish I had 1/10 of that!

So, thanks Carole and Mike Middleton for showing the world how parenting should really be done...nice job!

About Face...

I have pretty much come to the conclusion that all my extra money until I am at least 80 is going to my dermatologist in a supreme effort to keep my face looking as smooth as a baby's bottom!

20 years ago, when you went to a dermatologist you went mostly due to medical reasons - maybe you had a rash or perhaps quelle horreur, a bad pimple that you need a cortisone injection for.  Now, you don't go to the derm any more - you go to a dermatologist that works in a "MedSpa" where they have a never ending list of procedures you choose to combat the evil enemy - aging skin!

I started reading fashion magazines when I was in my teens - mostly Seventeen and Glamour.  I was enthralled by the fresh faced beauty of Cheryl Tiegs, Patty Hansen (now married to Keith Richards), and Christie Brinkley.  They were tall, thin and gorgeous and I desperately wanted to be one of them. Alas, at being only 5'4" with size D boobs, that was never going to happen, buy my life long obsession with beauty products was in it's early stages.  When I was 16 or so I purchased my first bottle of Oil of Olay - I still remember the pale pink color and the smell. From that day on, I have had a love affair with products and skin care.  I will admit that I have been blessed by the gods with good skin, but my idea of heaven is being stranded overnight in a  Sephora.

Yes, I will admit I have dabbed my toes into this never ending abyss of lasers and injections.  The Fraxel laser I had last year was an experience in how much pain women endure in the never ending quest for youth.

It started innocently enough.  I went to my med spa - yes, they are not even called dermatologists anymore - for a glycol peel - just something to give me a little glow.  I innocently inquired with the PA about laser technology.  I love being on the forefront of technology and skin technology is no exception.  My PA casually told me that the procedure was really easy and if I did it on a Friday I would be ok to go to work on Monday.

I should have know it was not as easy as all that when they put metal contacts into my eyes after sitting for 45 minutes with numbing cream on my face.  It went very fast and was secretly impressed with myself when PA told me I am handing the pain really well.  When it was all over and they put ice pads on my face and steam rose off of them, I pretty much knew this was serious business.  By the time I got home, my face was the deepest shade of crimson you can possibly imagine and to constantly keep putting ice pads on my face to battle the extreme heat of my face.  In hindsight I will definitely ask for Valium next time.

The redness went down over the next two days, but by Monday I was not looking all that great and really did not want to go to work and have everyone ask me what happened to my face.  By the 3rd or 4th day your skin starts flaking off and you look like you have leprosy due to having new skin in some spots and old skin in others.  During all this time, people at work and on the street are going to wonder what happened to you - just hold your head high and know in a week or so you will look like you just came back from a month in Bali.

This is not me, but pretty much what my face looked like afterwards.

After about 2 weeks you are rewarded with skin as smooth as a baby's bottom.  Not only that, but you are also building collagen to help plump your skin to stave off future sagging.  Win win!

Next up, Restylane under my eyes.  While contemplating another Fraxel treatment (yes, I am a masochist), my PA said she thinks that some Restylane under my eyes to fill up the deep valleys are forming from volume loss.  She showed me before and after pictures of herself and I was sold...it doesn't take much!

One month later, I am back with numbing cream under my eyes and then injections of filler into the "deep pockets" under my eyes. This was obviously not was intense as the laser, but still had black and blue marks under my eyes for about a week. I kept examining my eyes in my magnifying mirror and was not sure I was happy since it looked kind of lumpy to me, but after about 2 week everything smoothed out and I decided I had another addiction.

It's pretty amazing all the things you can do without resorting to surgery, and I firmly believe that after 30 it's all about maintenance and doing little things to help maintain a youthful appearance. Note, did not say look like you're 20 - but as we all know, women are held to a higher standard personally and professionally. After you turn 50 and you start becoming menopausal and the lack of estrogen in your body rapidly speeds up the aging process.   Doing little things definitely makes you look better, and feel better. melissazodicoff@blogspot.com

Date Of Birth, Please...

Maybe it's me and the fact that I am 51 years old, but why is it that every doctor and drug store asks you for your date of birth as a form of ID?

When did things change to giving your date of birth for everything?  It used to be that they either asked you to spell your last name or give your social security number.  I was ok with that. Now that I'm 51 it's just not fair and I am pissed!

This seriously drives me crazy, since for the last 8 years or so I have sat in an open seating plan at work where everyone hears what you say.  So basically, every time I call one of my numerous doctors' offices, I have to go find someplace private so nobody hears me say 10/25/62!  What happened to giving your social security number?  Nobody has the same social security number, and while I know the chances are slim, there is a chance that someone could have the same date of birth.

Even going to the drug store is painful - everytime I go to pick up a prescription at CVS, they ask me at the counter to state my date of birth.  What if there is some cute guy standing by me and I don't want him to know how old I am?  Why in god's name can they not check my ID another way? Duane Reade used to ask for your date of birth, but now they make you put in your phone number.  I like that!

Not only do I not want to be reminded about how old I am, I definitely do not want my 20-something co-workers knowing that I am "old" - at least in the physical sense.  Working in an advertising agency where every 20 people are 20-something hipsters from Williamsburg, I am super sensitive to people knowing how old I am.  It pigeon holes you as "older," i.e. not hip or cool.  Dam it, I am still cool...and hip!

What even pisses me off more, is when I call my dermatologist for make an appointment for a skin treatment, they ask for my date of birth - of all the doctor's they should be especially sensitive to a women's age.  After all, they are in the business of trying to make you look younger so why do they insist on having you state your age every time I make an appointment?

If anyone who works in a doctor's office reads this, please take note of this post - women over 40 do NOT like to have to state how old they are when calling for an appointment.

Does this bother any one else or is it only me?