Let’s talk about Entertainment: The Art of the Selective Yes In our 20s, entertainment meant FOMO. It meant standing in freezing lines for a club with a sticky floor, drinking something that tasted like battery acid, just to say you were there.
If you are new here, I am Fanny. I have crow’s feet from laughing at men who took themselves too seriously. I have a credit score that intimidates my nephews. And I have a Saturday night schedule that would exhaust my 25-year-old self.
P.S. The gardening comment? I do garden. I grew a jalapeño so spicy last summer it made a firefighter cry. Don't underestimate the mature woman. We are patient, we are sharp, and we have nothing left to prove. That is the most dangerous combination of all.
Now? Entertainment is curation.
Life is not slowing down. It is deepening .
When I started this blog, a younger colleague of mine tilted her head and said, “ Mature Fanny’s Lifestyle ? So… gardening, early bird specials, and watching reruns of Columbo ?”
Let’s clear something up right now.