As of last Saturday I am twenty six years old – that’s a really grown up number. I suppose that, when compared to some twenty six year old people, I sort of have my shit together. Of course, that’s only some of them. I suppose I could be an attorney, medical student, movie star… that would be much more impressive. I think back now to the milestones that I have accomplished and they suddenly seem much more serious than they did when they were happening.

• I have been married for five years. FIVE of them.
• I own a house (or at least half of one).
• I buy cars like they are going out of style.
• I own four pets.
• I finished college.
• I have a career (for now).

How is it that I am old enough to have any of these things? Because I am twenty six, that’s how. Twenty six is just past the age when you tell someone how old you are and they reply “Oh, you’re just a baby!” My dear and gentle friends, I am not a baby any more. Long passed are the days where was the youngest person in the office. In fact, I just learned that my boss and I are the same age. Good grief!

That statement finds me wanting badly to launch into a boorish diatribe about my work situation, but perhaps I will save that for another day. I want to stay positive because I am twenty six years old, and I am happy. SO happy and proud of what I have accomplished thus far. SO happy and hopeful for the things I have yet to accomplish. Also, hopeful that I will not put my foot in my mouth for using the word “hope”.

As they say, “Hope is a demon bitch”.

I never really gave much thought to Mad Men in all of these years that it has been running (however many that is). It probably has a lot to do with my loathing of television - that time is better spent cultivating more interesting hobbies, right? I knew next to nothing about it, and the only things I did know were based on curiosity after many mentions of my similarities to "that red head from the show". That red head from the show, one Miss Joan Holloway, is amazing by the way. I guess now would be the time to thank all of those random strangers, colleagues, (etc.) for the (somewhat misguided) reference. Thanks!

Recently I decided that I would give Mad Men a shot. I had spent the entire day refinishing my childhood vanity so I had been productive. I was exhausted and alone at home and it seemed that watching TV wouldn't be that bad.. Boy howdy is it beautiful! I think I am probably glad that I waited because now I can watch every single episode from the first four seasons at my leisure. That, friends, is pretty awesome. Less awesome is that I no longer need to accomplish anything productive to allow myself TV time. Those rules don't apply to Mad Men.

But I digress....

What I found notable is that, back in my days at that death pit of a former employer I worked for, I heard a lot of Mad Men references. At the time none of them really resonated with me (for obvious reasons). The only thing I picked up on was the rampant philandering because, let's face it, you really don't have to watch the show to be hip to that. Aside from the banging of secretaries and colleagues and subordinates and prostitutes (and mostly just anything with a vagina), there was also plenty of drinking on the job. Although it is hard to describe, there was also the same underlying tone of acceptable sexism. Honestly, the former probably applies more to one segment of the business than the other, but the latter was throughout the entire place.

It's kind of hilarious. (okay, okay, I guess you had to be there.)

Let me tell you about Shalimar... I.WANT.IT.

Shalimar was first introduced in 1925, and it continues to be one of the most well known and longest running fragrances on the planet (EVER) - at least that is how I (and my love of superlatives) understand it.

I don't want just any Shalimar though, I want the pure perfume Shalimar. Therein lies the problem... The absolute cheapest bottle I can find, which is new, costs $131.00 - not bad, right?

But I don't want a new one, I want an aged one. Those, my friends, cost anywhere from $300 to $600 and even more. MORE THAN THAT. I have scoured the interwebs on my piddly corporate lunch break like a boss, but to no avail. Is this something I ask Santa for, or do I just suck it up and buy the new one? I am getting this - that's all I can say.

I know, life's big problems... le sigh.