Fearing what you know.....
I obsess over growing old(er).
I hate it.
And I totally blame my mother....
Mom, this is your fault.
I've not ever blamed you (out loud anyway) for my intense fear of the IRS or of deep, dark shark infested waters (you know, any body of water, except the backyard above ground)...but I do blame you for this fear of aging.
And you know, it's not that you haven't managed to somehow become even more beautiful as you age, it's those little comments that you make.
"Lizzy, I don't wear eye shadow anymore because it draws attention to my droopy eyelids"
"Saggy" you say as you slap your butt cheeks, looking over your shoulder into the bathroom mirror "what has happened to my butt????"
The scary part is that you exercise like a fiend.
You call me, breathless and panting from climbing high hills while you run-walk miles at at time in strange neighborhoods.
Pretty much every day of the week I listen to you huff and puff and say things like "Lizzy, you need to get movin".
Inspirational mom, but you know how much I hate to sweat.
So things aren't looking too good over here.
I hate it.
My saggin eyelids and my saggy, sagging butt cheeks.
And the bingo flaps.
And the jowls.
I really hate the fact that I feel like I've reached the top of the hill and it's down, down, down from here.
My recent trip to the gynecologist confirmed my (current) greatest fear.
So now I do know.
Something about my blood work.
I figured there'd be some fanfare attached to this life's stepping stone.
A personal tsuami or an earthquake for one..something, anything to tell me loud and clear...you are here. you are here. you are here.
I cried to my mommy, tearfully and broken hearted.
"Mom, I walked in the door a supple grape and walked out a shriveled raisin".
"The tests said I'm mennnnnnnnnnnnn ah , I can't even say the word."
How did this happen?
I am there.
I don't want to be there.
My mom laughed and said "you need to write about that, that is funny".
You're not the only one laughing mom, seems like the universe has joined you.
This morning when I commented on another blogger's post, that little stupid squiggly hard to read word you have to type before they will publish your comment said.....
I swear to God.
Anybody know of a good all over moisturizer?
I'm feeling a bit like an old saddle.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Posted by Koby at 5:52 AM
Labels: Moi', The M word
Some bloggers write "gimme me some love".... as far as I'm concerned, I'd love some love, but I'd even take some hate, some expressions of your disgust, your outrage, mild irritation, sheer joy...whatever, I can take it, honestly I can. Just please (please) leave a comment or two and let me know what you think. Merci.
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Catching up on reading after a few days offline, I read this with my heart in my mouth, anticipating some kind of bad news ... but have to admit I laughed out loud when I got to the actual news. I am so sorry!! Shrivelled raisin?! I don't think so. What you need, my friend, is a dose of sassy new perfume and a date night with Daddio. Commiserations on the sagging, but congratulations on reaching the start of a whole new chapter of freedom and fearlessness xReplyDelete
I'm doing some deep pondering about the suggestions you threw out as a cure for what ails me...you just may be right. A lil ol bottle of the sauce. (The splash sauce).