Pearls of Wisdom

I will be the first to admit that I don't know it all. In fact, the older I get, the more I realize that I don't know much of anything, in the grand scheme of things. But there are a few undeniable facts that I have learned in my thirty-some-odd (a lady never reveals her age) years, and in order to pad my community service hours for the week, I thought I would share them today. Charitable deduction, here I come. These pearls of wisdom, in no particular order, are as follows:

Anytime you leave your house looking less than presentable and hoping you won't see anyone you know, you will, inevitably, see multiple people that you know. They will look unusually fabulous during this encounter. Despite your ninja-like efforts to evade these folks, they will recognize you and want to chat. And possibly ask if you are sick, due to the deteriorated state of your appearance. Conversely, on the days you emerge looking like a supermodel, not a soul will see you. I'm almost entirely sure that is how the selfie came into existence--as hard evidence of good hair days even without a single witness.

Be very afraid.

On a different but equally important note, no matter how tempting, under no circumstances should you order shrimp (a.k.a. camarones) at a Mexican restaurant. I learned this in the extremely unfortunate quesadilla incident of 2003. There is a very good reason that diarrhea sounds like a Spanish word. Ole, indeed.

Any item that you lose automatically doubles in value. It really is true that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone. Where are you, super soft, perfectly worn-in Acapulco t-shirt from 1988?! I can't live without you, and I can't replace you, either! Come baaaaaack to me!

If someone offers you a breath mint, always take it. There's a good chance that they are just being polite and not fending off your offensive halitosis, but it's still better to be safe than stank.

Never chew gum while cleaning a toilet. This one was an especially difficult learning experience for me, and I would really prefer not to discuss it any further. Ignore this advice at your own risk.

Your mom is right. Always, every single time. Even if you don't know it yet. Arguing with her will only make you look dumb, so it's best to just bite your tongue and wait for the proof to come that she was right all along.

The only answer anyone wants to hear when they ask, "how are you?" is fine. No one wants to hear that you aren't fine, or that you are better than fine. Stick to the status quo. And even if you don't want to know the answer, you are obligated to ask how that person is doing in return. Pretend to listen for a second or two, smile, nod, and then you can be on your merry way.

99% of the things you worry about will never happen. That probably includes whatever it is you're worrying about right now. The things that will really jump out and bite you in the butt are the ones you never saw coming.

The quickest way to have someone prove you wrong? Defend them by telling other people, "she would never do that!" Then prepare yourself for the fallout.

I love to watch Wheel of Fortune at night after dinner. When it comes right down to it, life is a lot like Wheel of Fortune. You rarely know the answer to the puzzle right away, so you spin the wheel, try to make some guesses, and hope you never land on bankrupt. And get jump-up-and-down excited for vacations and new cars.

The older I get, the longer it takes me to get ready. Crimp, curl, spackle, putty. At the rate I'm going, by the time I'm 80, I will eat breakfast, start doing my hair and makeup, then watch Wheel of Fortune and go to bed. I'd like to solve the puzzle: you look mah-ve-lous, darling.

Now, there are plenty of other gems I could share with you, but my mother always raised us with the mantra that you never tell them everything you know and you always leave them wanting more. And so, on that note, I will simply leave you with some sage words that really sum up the seriousness of this life we're all living:

“When I die, I want to die like my grandfather, who died peacefully in his sleep. Not screaming like all the passengers in his car.” -Will Rogers