Heyyyyyyy Macarena.

You guys, Christie Brinkley is turning 62 next month. 62! And yes, this should seem unsurprising given that the Age of the Supermodels was the Eighties, and the Eighties were three decades ago but my point is, have you seen a photo of Christie Brinkley lately? Google one right now, I’ll wait. Or, better yet, here’s an Instagram photo from a few months back. My god, forget the eye cream, I need something stronger. Is there any way to completely rid myself of Bitchy Resting Face? I’ll take any advice that I can get.

Oh well, it’s not like my face is my fortune, or that an awesomely talented musician wrote a song about me or anything (that I know of) so I guess I’ll make peace with my non-Christie-Brinkley-appearance. But still, DAMN.

Time just flies by, doesn’t it? Today I learned that 2016 is the year that the Macarena turns 20. Somewhere there exists a photo of me – in cut-off denim shirts and a red crop top – doing the Macarena in a bar in Mexico. I cannot find the photo but I do have a photo of me in that same outfit, drinking a margarita:

That hair, though.

Other songs that turn twenty this year include Champagne Supernova, Killing Me Softly, and No Diggity, if you want to shake your head in disbelief about the Flight of Time.

The Flight of Time felt more like a crawl this week, though. The first week back to regular routines and schedules always feels a bit strange. Technically it was a short week, since the kids had Monday off of school, but I had booked them in for an orthodontist check-up first thing in the morning. I had expected just a “we’ll see you in six months” appointment, and that is what happened for Jake. Mark, however, has lost his last baby tooth and braces are imminent. He had moulds made and X-ray imaging done, and so it feels like I’m entering a new era; The Orthodontia Years. Or, since he’s expected to have them less than two years, The Orthodontia Months. Teenage angst is not far off! Sunrise, sunset.

A nice aspect of this orthodontist’s office is that the kids get to spin a wheel, similar to a slot machine, and then they receive a prize. It’s like a graduated version of crappy dentist office prizes; Jake got two free cookies from Cookies by George, and Mark got a gift card to Kernels. Enjoy the popcorn while you can, buddy! Since it was a day off, after the (unexpectedly long) appointment we went to the mall to collect their prizes. “Isn’t it great we get this free stuff?” the kids asked, and I refrained from pointing out that “included” is not the same as “free.”

Since we were at the mall anyway, me and my dark undereye bags decided to go into the Kiehl’s store. I love the Kiehl’s store. It feels like I’m really Doing Something Important, what with the sales associates standing around in white lab coats, and their brisk business-like attitude. There’s no hippie-dippiness going on around here. You have a problem. They have a solution. I ended up purchasing something called “Powerful-Strength Line-Reducing Eye-Brightening Concentrate” which isn’t something that succinctly rolls off your tongue, but it describes exactly what I want in an eye cream.

I tried to take a photo of my undereye bags for a “before” shot, but the result was so depressing I’m not sure I can post it. I mean, really. I drink a ton of water. I eat well. I exercise. I get about seven hours of sleep a night, and more on weekends. Why, then, do I look like an extra in the Thriller video? No wonder no one knew what I was dressed up as for Halloween – my undereye bags are like extra-large undereye Samsonites.

TGI Friday, am I right? Does anyone have plans for the weekend? I am still working my way through Game of Thrones, and I’m now in the third season – i.e., I am losing my will to live. The problem with binge-watching these shows is that they take over one’s subconscious. I remember this feeling with Breaking Bad; too many episodes in a row and I started to feel sweaty and shaky and have weird dreams. Those weird dreams were NOTHING compared to Game of Thrones-inspired dreams. HOO BOY.