How Did This Happen?

I have a major birthday coming up this month. One of those ones with a 0 in it. While I’m actually quite happy with my life, this represents a really huge number that carries with it all kinds of mental images that are disturbing.

My own mother, who was thrown by nothing, felt intimidated by this number. She told everyone she was XXXty-one instead, feeling that it was less a big deal than the actual number with the 0.

I used to work with people younger than I was and that was okay. Now I find that I’m often older than my co-workers’ PARENTS! That’s OLD!!!

What is really disturbing is the tendency to say things I never thought I’d hear myself say. Like, “How can they call that music?” Or, “I can’t believe anyone would go out in public dressed like that.” Or even worse, “I remember when we used to………”

My body makes sound effects that are not good. My shape is the result of bad habits and gravity and it’s beginning to appear to be a permanent condition. My family says I’m going deaf but I insist the problem is that they mumble. I know the difference in generic and name brand stool softeners!

Those “early bird specials” for dinner make a lot more sense than I expected them to, and if it weren’t for having a DVR I’d miss most everything that is on TV in prime time.

Getting a tan has been replaced by planting a garden. Shopping for the latest fashion has been replaced by regular trips to Home Depot for bedding plants. The vanity that used to compel me to go to the grocery store in full makeup has gone away (somewhat) and I have been known go out some days with my bare face.

Thanks to the magic of Facebook I can stay in touch with friends from high school without having to go back for the humiliating reunions. They only know what I look like through the photos of me I CHOOSE to post or allow to be tagged. (Okay, so not all the vanity is gone.)

One of the advantages of being XXXty is that no one expects you to change any more. They figure this is as good as you are going to get so there is much less nagging (except by grown children who think it’s their turn).

I’m grateful for the life I have and the one I’ve had and the one I’m going to have in the future. I’ve lost friends younger than I am so I don’t take life for granted. I’m a lot more accepting of myself and others than I once was.

But XXXty? Seriously? Me? I still don’t believe it!

I Have Worn My Last Swimsuit

The time has come to put the dream to bed – I’ll never go out in public again in a bathing suit. I refuse to subject the general public to the sight of my lumpy body in Lycra.

Oh, yeah, I know you are saying they make suits in all sizes and even blousy ones with skirts. Nope. Can’t do it. I’ve walked too many times on the beach looking at my feet so that I didn’t have to see the old ladies with their elephant skin walking past me. (Shudder.) I will not be one of them.

Lest you think I’m giving up too much, let me point out that I don’t swim. So “swimsuit” is really a euphemism for an outfit that is beach or poolside appropriate.

As long as I stay out of the water I do have some options. Capri pants have given me an option to shorts, and self tanning lotions have allowed me to reach a level of modest beige that offsets the white cellulite in my legs and arms.

The other advantage of Capri pants (which are probably no longer called that, but whatever), is that they cover the road atlas of veins my legs now have. (There is no self tanner that totally covers purple and blue streaks.)

And if I keep my arms close to my body then the bat-wings under them are not as obvious, so I can get away with short sleeves – maybe.

Mostly I’m just waiting on fall and praying for another cold winter – turtlenecks, sweat pants, and heavy coats!

You Know You’re Old and Boring When Even Thieves Don’t Want Your Stuff

Okay, first of all, I’m an idiot. I forgot to lock my car and we park on the street, so that was dumb. But it’s embarrassing to realize your car was ransacked and the would-be thief didn’t want your stuff.

Maybe the thief shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up to begin with when he approached a 7 year old Honda Accord. Right off the bat he should have realized it was not owned by someone too hip or affluent.

I’m sure he was really disappointed to see that the collection of CDs in the console included things like the soundtrack from “Singing In the Rain”, big band music, TV theme songs from the ‘50’s and ‘60’s, and listing presentation training. He left them all.

He took my umbrella out of the sleeve and must have decided it was too ugly to be seen with because he left that too. Or else he just doesn’t like the Eiffel Tower motif.

The “jackpot” was in the trunk. He left the trash picker upper but took what looked to be a large duffel bag. I’m sure he thought it had good fitness stuff like expensive sneakers or an iPod. Instead it was my Emergency Rescue bag, with things like a hard hat, rubber gloves, yellow tape, and first aid supplies. He stole it, then left it a block down the street in what I can only assume was disgust and disappointment.

He didn’t even take my bag of jar openers. That seems extremely short sighted on his part because a jar opener would be a good thing to use so as not to leave fingerprints.

I know I should be relieved that there was no loss, but I can’t help but feel that’s the final nail in the coffin of confirming just how dull I’ve become

Have You Signed Up to Be an Ass Donor?

When I was young, the “uni-butt” look was the order of the day. You remember that? Girdles? They flattened and merged everything into a uniform backside. No definition.

Over the years as manufacturers became more and more clever in the use of Spandex, we evolved back into a two-cheek scenario, though still tightly bound up.

Well, now I’ve seen it all. You can buy a fake butt. Think of a padded bra, but for the derriere. Actually, it’s more like falsies that you insert into your jeans for a perky, more alluring shape.
With the obesity problem in this country I’m not sure who the candidates for this product are, but there must be a market for it. But at best that’s only a temporary solution.

I propose a more permanent answer – have an ass transplant. There must be millions of people who could be donors (go shopping at your local super store and you will see dozens of potential candidates). At the same time it’s making some behinds more shapely, it’s also taking pounds off the bodies that have more than they need.

We could also make it even easier. When you renew your driver’s license there could be an extra box to check. In addition to being an organ donor you could check the box to be an ass donor. Then even slim, shapely people could be donors when they don’t need their own any more.

It could even be considered “green”. The ultimate way to recycle.

New Year’s Justifications

Well, it’s the new year and everything on TV and in the paper is about what I should or shouldn’t be doing. I SHOULD exercise. I SHOULDN’T eat carbs. I SHOULD have a check up on every major organ every six months. I SHOULDN’T sit in front of the computer so much.

Most of these messages are accompanied by some product or service that will help me in my quest for this new lifestyle. Some will even give me twice as much if I order it NOW!
The problem is, I’m 59 years old and set in my ways. I LIKE carbs and sitting at the computer. I DON’T like exercise. And as long as my organs are functioning, I don’t think I need a tune up that often.

But it’s the new year and we’re all supposed to make resolutions and then stick to them – for awhile, any way. And we get to feel so virtuous while we do it. A collective rebirth in which we all will be better people – for now. Then I’ll pass the bakery section at the supermarket and I’ll justify a purchase to reward my virtuousness.

The problem lies with the word “justify”. It allows me to do whatever I want as long as I can come up with a plausible excuse for doing it (and it’s legal). For example, back to the bakery. We’re having a cold snap and everyone knows you burn more calories in cold weather than in warm. Hence, I need a pie. (Don’t even try to quibble that it only applies if you are actually outside IN the cold for an extended period. Those are details best left unmentioned.)

Now I need to go. There is an exercise program on TV I need to watch and three donuts to eat while I watch it – hey, it’s freezing outside!