A Southern Fried Mess

Insanity is a southern necessity…

Kicking and Screaming

I will not go quietly!!!!

I’m talking about getting old. While waiting amongst all the elderly folks in the eye doctor’s office yesterday, I came to a sudden realization: I’m about to hit forty and I hate the way I look in shorts.

And it’s not just the shorts that are bothering me. I don’t like my hairstyle or color. I can’t stand the way my once slim chin line is now sagging and threatening to become two at any moment. I have no chest to speak of. My rear end has seen better days. And lets not forget about those baggy, turkey gobbler-looking things hanging from my upper arms. Yuck!! Curse gravity!!

Of course if you were to ask my hubby or any one in my family, they would say I look fine. Even though I have a deep wrinkle forming under my nose and above my upper lip that looks like the Grand Canyon. Most women just get crows feet, but no that’s not good enough for me. I have to go and get a retarded wrinkle in the most stupidest of places. If you were to color in the crater with a permanent marker, I’d have  a mustache that would put Sam Elliot’s to shame.

How could one who was so athletic and fit in her younger years get to this point? I’ve thought about having surgery to ‘fix’ the problem areas: boob job, tummy tuck, butt lift, and maybe a face lift while I’m at it. But what kind of message would I be sending my  daughters?  “If you don’t like what God gave you, then go and have it fixed.” That just goes against everything and yet the thought lingers in the back of my mind.

I suppose I will have to start working out–just as soon as I find some spare time. Maybe I could take up running again. As far as the hair goes, well it’s nothing a box of hair color and a trip to the salon couldn’t fix. But what about the wrinkles? I guess I will just have to chalk them up as battle scars and be proud of them (If I could only do the same about the HUGE varicose vein in my right leg that resembles route 66).

Tanning cream will take care of the winter’s paleness so that maybe I won’t mind wearing shorts again. Don’t keep your fingers crossed on that one.  I will probably look like a striped orange space alien walking down the street.

Starting today, I will weigh in and start operation ‘ Mid-Life Crisis’  ‘Rejuvenate’.  Let’s see how much weight I can loose and how  long  it takes to get into shape and feel better about myself. Who knows? Maybe that dream of competing in the Iron Man Triathlon will come true. ( Yeah, I’m not holding my breath on that one either…)

———————

Height: 5’7”

Weight: 137-147 ( depends on which scale in the house you use)

Gray hair color count: ten plucked out so far

Waist size: 34 ( if its ‘that time of the month’ you’re looking at a 35 or larger)

Push-up count: 2–I’m counting the one that didn’t make it off the floor whether you like it or not

Running Distance Endured: to the mail box ( I don’t think there’s any mileage in that–more like steps)

Pounds of weight lifted:?????

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April 2, 2008 - Posted by | family, life | , ,

1 Comment »

  1. You have got me by three years, but I am winning the gray hair battle, by far. I couldn’t count if I tried.

    Don’t stress about the pounds…just think of living “healthier” and the rest will follow…other than that monster wrinkle.

    Comment by morethananelectrician | April 2, 2008 | Reply


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