The Sagging Truth!

Remember back about a hundred years ago when you were a little kid?

Banana seat bikes with one speed that did not require helmets. 

Rotary phones that had no call waiting or voicemail.

Cars that had no seat belts or airbags.

Cabinet doors had no locks and when your mother yelled, “Grab me two Bufferin” you could open the bottle.  Then, she’d wash it down with a martini while lighting up a Pall Mall, all along pregnant with your younger sibling! 

To think we drank from the hose and chewed our best friends gum while they were called in for dinner, and yet, there was no loss of life!

We couldn’t wait to grow up, constantly looking at the older kids in envy.  Anxious to be like them; wearing hip hugger bell-bottom pants, tube top shirts and driving Mustangs, Camaros and Chevelles.

Now that I am somewhat grown up, some things can wait, like turning 50. Why is AARP sending me mail???  I am very close, but PLEASE, allow me spend my last 13 months in my precious 40’s in a state of denial.  Let me keep trying to push my boobs up with under wire, stuffing my muffin tops into low rise jeans and desperately trying to find a belt that fits!  God damit, I am not ready for elastic waist pants, full coverage bras and control top underwear.  Or…maybe they see something I don’t; my FAT ASS as I exit the room! 

And what moron invented back fat?  They should be shot on sight, yet a public lynching might be more fun. The only thing less fun is menopause?  Simply put, it sucks, and every hot flash and mood swing included.  To think women have to endure years of PMS only to end up in a constant stage of bitchiness when your period finally goes away and takes all your hormones with!  I feel like I have been in a bad mood for the last four years. Will this go away if I simply join???

As a way to hold on to my youth I thought of getting a tattoo for my fiftieth birthday.  Then I was offered the useless advice of picking a spot that doesn’t sag. The bottom of my foot or armpit doesn‘t seem worth the pain, effort and money?

I convinced myself, am one of those people that everyone wants, even the AARP.  I could be the new spokesperson for, “Cool, hip, new, 50 means 40 generation!”  This would certainly embarrass my kids, which in itself is a reason to join.

Then I will gather all my other almost 50, totally in denial friends, to accompany me.  Why should I go it alone?

Everyone in the pool!  Leave the bi-focals, hearing aids, walkers and bathing caps at home.  Heck leave the swimsuits too, there is no back fat under water and everyone is "high school skinny".

Almost fifty and fine, and the only membership required…a really cool tattoo stating: mid-life crisis is “behind“ me now.

Location of your choice, sagging or not.  

Copywrite Loretta Mosca 2009