Monet For The Third Time... I Decide To Have A Midlife Crisis...

Went to the Monet exhibit for the third time yesterday; he's still dead.

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I actually did have a rather good birthday, though: donned my favorite Mad Hatter Tea Party outfit and trotted over to Sunday brunch with the whole famn damily. Among other delightful things, I received a nice squashy pair of jammies and some lovely hand-stitched antique linens. Later, my friend Cynthia baked a terribly tasty pineapple upside-down cake, and a few others took me to Tokyo Sushi, where the friendly staff fed me a charming little "birthday fish" and admired my hat.

32 isn't quite so bad after all, but I have decided to have a midlife crisis anyway as it Seems The Thing To Do. I have narrowed my crisis down to several popular options, but have yet to make a choice... I am notoriously wishy-washy about these sorts of things.

*** Crisis Options ***

1.) I begin to wear Inappropriate Clothing and frequent seedy establishments where I meet a forty year old unwashed biker named Steve. Steve prominently displays several large prison tattoos, among which are a skull and dagger, a poorly rendered Marilyn Monroe and a rather large heart that spells M-O-M. Steve is wanted by the local police, the F.B.I., the C.I.A. and the Canadian Mounties. Despite his lurid past and his limited fashion sense, I decide to elope with Steve and raise his three children from a previous marriage to a Grateful Dead groupie named Charlene.

2.) I begin to question my spirituality and join a smallish sort of cult that specializes in a rather odd combination of Apocalyptic fundamentalism and nature worship (mainly trees). While I have trouble reconciling the conflicting aspects of the group's doctrine, I continue to be mesmerized by their charismatic cult leader and his views on the spiritual benefits of fruit. I renounce all my wordly possessions, shave my head and begin to wear unfashionable polyester robes that chafe during the summer months. I continue to attend family functions, but spend my time unsuccessfully trying to convert everyone to the "Way of Zoltar".

3.) I spontaneously quit my job, as it doesn't leave me room to Be Free. I then liquidate all my assets and embark on a wild spending and gambling spree in Las Vegas, where I party with a group of drunken Elvis impersonators attending the local convention. Although I win pots of money at blackjack during the first night at Caesar's Palace, I spend most of it on tequila and cocaine, after which I lose the rest during a game of craps at Circus Circus. The remainder of my Vegas trip is spent throwing up and dodging a loan shark enforcer named Rocco.

4.) I embark on an exciting life of crime, beginning with small-time shoplifting and graduating to full blown armed robbery while wearing a fashionable ninja costume. I remain successful for quite some time, until being ratted out by a nervous little stool pigeon named Edgar. While Edgar is responsible for my reaching number 7 on the F.B.I.'s Most Wanted list, I fortunately evade capture and retire to a small villa in Singapore, where I become a model citizen and write a best-selling memoir.

5.) I join a gang and taunt beefy policemen.


*** Additional Suggestions Welcome ***