Quite often I am sitting in my car or usually at my desk and I wonder "what is that on my leg"?...then I realize, Oh yeah it's my stomach. I look in the mirror after talking myself into something sleeveless and I wonder when my theme song for my arms became "gettin jiggy with it". I put on a pair of tights with a cute dress and start to walk and get mortified that the swishing I am hearing is my thighs rubbing together. I also have a big behind, but hey, if Kim Kardashian can pull it off I think I can too.
Getting older and being a woman is hard work. When a man gets old he lifts some weights, buys some just for men hair dye and calls it a day. It isn't fair. We women have to work for our beauty because let's face it some of us just aren't natural beauties.
I thought I could grow up tweezing my own eye brows, but I have found that no matter how hard I try one eye comes out looking lik I'm a freak. I have to go to the eyebrow threading lady in the mall and get the Jlo eyebrows. Just when I think my face is back to cuteness she asks if I would like to get my upper lip done...does it ever end?
It's summertime and just when I think that I can flaunt my cutest nail polish on my toes my feet suddenly have turned into feet belonging to someone named gertrude. I have hardened skin on the bottom of my foot that I practically have to take a chainsaw to just to be presentable. If I get up in the morning and think, wow, I look pretty today, it all changes when I get to work. As I stand there in front of the chrome elevator I realize...UGH, I am fat, my shirt is awful, my hair is crappy and my makeup is hideous. I never thought I looked awful when I was younger, I was pretty cute and even thinner.
Darn my darn thyroid that is underactive. I have to take a pill everyday to regulate this and I usually forget that. Well, it isn't that I forget but something nice happens when I don't take it. I don't get my monthly red friend...and honestly ladies...cmon...who wants that every month. So I don't get my friend but I stay round. I have been promising myself that I will be better and take it and that usually lasts for like a week.
I used to be able to stay up for two days in a row, but now it seems as if when I get home I am exhausted. I don't even remember to take off my makeup and in the morning I look like a football player with that black stuff under my eyes and my pores are looking awful. Most of the time in the mornings I have to take off my makeup just to shlop more on, and even that's a task. I sometimes feel like I am fixing up a dented car when I am working on my face filling in wrinkles...where's the bondo?
Getting older means comfort as well. You don't wanna buy a sexy bra because you are middle aged and don't want your cleavage to hit your chin, unless you're out clubbin. So you decide on an old lady bra! Flip flops become your shoe of choice and the long hair you once loved when you were younger is such a hassle.
You try so hard to pull off limeaid or sunny yellow or gothic black nail polish and only get weird looks because those colors are for young girls. Here's my question...when did I become not a young girl anymore. I will be 39 in a few months and I still feel young, but my mirror tells me differently.
I remember us making fun of my mother and calling her Polly because all she wore was polyester. It becomes reality that times are a changing when you look at the tag in your pants and realize that 95% of them are made of Polyester...why?
So here as I sit waaaaay past my bedtome I am fighting just to finish this blog. Oh where did youth go? Remember the song forever young? Forever young, I want to be forever young. I iwll admit that while there are some days I want to be forever young, I am about to reach one of the highest points of my life. 38 wasn't so bad and 39 will be just fine...but dang it takes effort to look as cute as me.
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