My ten (anti) commandments

Good morning, Tuesday. I'm finally feeling in tune again even though it's hot and humid and yucky outside. It was nice to stay in bed a few minutes later than usual today and skip the gym- sometimes the dog needs extra cuddles. Sometimes I need extra cuddles. And that's that.

So I was thinking about how fussy I am about most things- one of the benefits of getting older is that you really do know what works for you and what doesn't. And with a birthday fast approaching next month, I started thinking about how very well I know myself, with all of my quirks and eccentricities. And though many people have a list of things they want to do, I find myself keeping a list of things I never want to do. As in- never, ever. I'm not a close minded woman, I just know what i like and what I don't. Here's a few of the things I don't plan on doing or eating in this lifetime- let's refer to them as my ten anticommandments:

1. Camping- Yea. This one's fairly common for us urban types and princesses. I'm not down with camping, even when it's masquerading  as glamping. I'm not one for sleeping outside. And I most likely never will be, even if you have cedar plank salmon or a lot of really good      wine. Next.

2. Paintball- If you know me at all or if we have ever met even briefly, you know that I am so not a paintball kind of girl. Under no circumstances do I want anyone chasing me down and shooting at me. Even if it is just paint. Plus I have a very low pain threshold and I don't like the looks of this game. It's way too alpha for me. Plus, what would I wear?  There are girls who play paintball, and there are  girls  who would never run around in the woods screaming and wearing a bandanna in their hair while dodging a gun. I am one of those girls. 

3. Tomatoes- Oh Lord. I hate tomatoes. I love tomato juice. I love tomato sauce. But plain old tomatoes? Gag. Gag. Gag. Can't even have a seed near my sandwich. Blech. I am phobic about them.

4. Onions- Ditto on the onions. Particularly raw ones. Disgusting. 

5. Needles- Nobody likes needles. I know this. But even if my forehead starts to look like a roadmap to my life, I would not stick a needle in     it to look a few years younger. Because I hate needles. And that aforementioned pain threshold. What kind of hedonist likes needles?  Not this one. I'm team pleasure and not team pain.  I hate those things. And I would never willingly get one. So no botox for this girl. Oh,  and deep tissue massages fall into this camp too. WTF? Tickle me with a feather, better. Poked and/or prodded are not my trip.

6. Hot yoga- This one is high on my list of do nots. I hate feeling too hot.  Why on Earth would I want to down dog in a gas chamber?   You're right. I wouldn't. Y'all are crazy. Plus a roomful of hot, sweaty yogis is not my idea of a good time. 

7. Retreats- As a lifelong non-joiner, I don't like anything called a retreat. This implies I am trapped in a place with supposed "like minded"  people. I hate feeling like I can't leave a place and that there's nothing to do in said place except focus on something I will most likely realize means very little to me halfway through.  I always need an out. Plus, I have a rebel heart and hate the thought of overly organized bullshit with no escape. And name tags. I hate a name tag.

8. Bed and breakfasts- Big one. I don't like the idea of sleeping in some weirdo's house who most likely has terrible taste. And if I'm going to wake up to the smell of breakfast sausage, I prefer it in my own bed. Way too intimate for me. No thank you. Plus I got kicked out of  one for smoking once and I am permanently scarred from that shameful moment. Hotels all the way. Air BNBs too, as long as the homeowner is not present during my stay. An inn is questionable, but far more desirable than a bed and breakfast.

9. Fake shit - I'd rather carry a handbag from a dollar store than wear a fake Louis Vuitton. That's the truth. If I can't afford a Rolex, I'm not     going to wear a fake Rolex. Plus I absolutely hate Canal Street. So no chance of me wearing a shitty copy of anything. I'm all about the real thing, cause there ain't nothing like it and you know this. All or nothing at all, baby.

10. Bucket lists- As I approach an age where one takes stock, I'm not putting together anything called a bucket list. Making one implies you don't have a lot of time left or you are somehow disappointed with the life you currently lead.  We all want to see the wonders of the world. I don't need to put that on a list. I'm setting myself up to fail that way. I'd rather just focus on serendipity and chance. That's       more my vibe. Oh, and if you have a bucket list, don't tell me about it. Keep it to yourself. Please. I beg.

Not on this list but as an appendix or addendum- Broadway musicals. I can't. I just can not. They make my ears bleed. I have many friends in the business and though I love you, I can't deal with musicals. It's my version of auditory hell. If for some reason I don't make it to Heaven, I will surely be greeted in Hell to the strains of "Oklahoma".  G-d help me.

So by now you're wondering how, seemingly overnight, I've turned into Andy Rooney. I haven't. In fact there are many things about life I absolutely adore. But I wanted to share a few things I don't. And trust me, there are many more but these are consistently loathsome to me.

Cause that's what's up this truthful Tuesday in the 212. Yours, in ten things you may have not known (or wanted to know) about me. XO