These days I think a lot about the things here in L.A. that I’m truly going to miss. The weather (of course), the produce (good god!) , my sister and my friends. What’s nice is that there are a variety of things that I really won’t miss.
I’m not sure why I make a big deal out of this but it drives me crazy. Everywhere here I’m an over-the-hill, past-my-prime “ma’am.” This is one of my least favorite words on the planet. It makes my skin crawl. I used to feel bad when a woman shopping in the same store as me would be approached by a salesperson using the M-word. I knew it would only be a matter of time in which I became initiated in the “ma’am” club. I know I’m 35 but I don’t feel anywhere near that age (as you well know!). Being called ma’am makes me feel like I’m 70. Like I should have a walker and lack the ability to aggressively chew food.
I know I’m being ridiculous but I can’t seem to shake it.
What I’ve noticed, however, is that while I’m part of the “ma’am” brigade in L.A., when I step on a plane heading almost anywhere else, I suddenly become a “miss.” When I’m asked by a flight attendant if I’d “like something to drink, ‘ma’am’?” The answer is usually a dirty look and a hasty “no.” But when I’m a “miss”, the answer magically becomes a smile and a sweet “sure.” How is it that this word has so much power over me? Or should I say, words?
In Michigan, at least thus far, I am still a “miss.” I know it’s superficial but this is one thing that I’m looking forward to. That I’m not really that old yet. That as a “miss” I’ve still got some youthful spunk (I could go down an ugly road here but am refraining….you’re welcome).
So in the spirit of utilizing my still working power to eat a variety of tastes and textures, I give you last night’s dinner:
Buffalo Broccoli Stir Fry
I’ve been craving this kind of dish for a while now and according to my acupuncturist, if I’m craving something like specific meat or veggies, I should honor my body in that it needs a specific vitamin or mineral. I honored myself with not one but two bowls of this tastiness. As you probably know, I’m not a big meat eater and hadn’t had any meat in any meal for over a week, as it’s something that I just usually don’t want or crave to eat. But this buffalo was tender and fantastic–even a “ma’am” would have had no problem with chewing, as it kind of melted in your mouth. I only needed a few slices mixed in with all the veggies and this “miss” felt totally satisfied.
Fess up. What are your thoughts on being called “ma’am” or “miss”?