I’m 59 years old and most definitely not as toned and tight as I once was. My hair is greying, my knee is shot… I have bunions FFS! But aging is a part of life and reflects who I am now, not the silly 20 year old I see in pictures and hardly recognize.
Much as I’d love to hook up a Hoover to my thighs and suction off a few doughnuts, I won’t. I also won’t be nipping and tucking anything on my face like these ladies… who in my opinion would’ve been better off with a few wrinkles.
Remember Melanie Griffith?
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Working Girl? Milk Money?
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Damn!
Remember perky little Meg Ryan? America’s sweetheart from When Harry Met Sally and You’ve Got Mail?
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What’s with the lips? Why do they think bigger will make them look younger.
And then there’s Renee Zellwegger from Bridget Jones Diary.
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She doesn’t even look like the same person and yet she swears she hasn’t had any work done. Her reason for the transformation? She’s happy.
Well so am, I but I still look like myself.
And finally there’s Madonna, to whom I can only say…
I used to love shopping at Victoria’s Secret when I was younger, not to mention thinner. They always had beautifully sensuous lingerie and a nice selection of comfy pajamas in wonderfully soft fabrics.
Now that I’m a menopausal woman of a certain age, my desire for the secrets of Victoria have waned and I haven’t visited one of the stores in at least a decade.
This is probably why their ad on my Facebook page came as a bit of a surprise. And from the look of the items they’re offering now? I’m actually glad to be 58.
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Seriously, who the Hell would wear this? In my opinion it’s not the least bit attractive, no less sexy. And damn, for $1.98’s worth of electrical tape you could pretty much make one at home.
The husband disappeared for a few hours yesterday and since him being quiet is usually dangerous, I investigated.
After searching the house, grounds and barn to no avail, I found him in the garage… where he’d pulled out one of our motorcycles.
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It’s a Kawasaki 1500 Vulcan which we used to ride all the time. Or rather, as much as Maine weather would allow. We bought our first bike back in the 90’s when we lived in North Carolina. Much longer riding season there, though I did hate wearing a helmet.
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We’ve had a parade of different bikes over the years, like this custom Harley the husband just had to buy …
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You know, the one that’s currently covered, buried in the back of the garage and collecting cobwebs.
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We’ve enjoyed them all and have toured New England from the mountains to the coast.
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We’ve taken scenic day trips and hit the annual rallies. Down south it was Myrtle Beach, up here it was Laconia.
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Where parking can be a wee bit tight.
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We’ve done countless charity rides and poker runs.
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And supported the Toys for Tots Run every September.
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Hundreds of big bad bikers…
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Coming together to make Christmas morning a little brighter for underprivileged children.
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Yes, that’s Senator Angus King. He was Maine’s Governor for years and rode with us quite often.
We’ve loved our bikes and enjoyed riding for decades.
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But in 2017 my husband had triple bypass surgery and things changed. It’s a dramatic as well as life altering procedure which I don’t recommend. Not one little bit. The recovery was a long emotional roller coaster and though he eventually came through it, physically he wasn’t the same man. He lost a lot of weight, which was good…. but a lot of muscle mass went with it. Motorcycles be heavy. So the bikes were covered and garaged.
Oh, we took them out now and then… but just for short cruises. And in the past 2 years? Nothing. Nada. Not one single ride. To be honest my knee injury makes it uncomfortable, but mostly it’s just getting to be too much. My husband is 75 and I’m fine with him hanging up the leather. Last year I suggested selling the two we have left and buying a sweet little convertible…. but he’s having a hard time letting go.
Aging is hard. And admitting you might have physical limitations for a retired Marine? Even harder. I understand, and don’t push. But when I went out to the garage and found him washing and polishing the Kawi I was hopeful.
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He asked about the registration sticker not being current and said we’d have to renew it if we planned on selling her.
He’s come close a few times but was never able to pull the trigger.
I was beginning to wonder if it would ever happen.
But today?
He actually did it.
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My husband finally sent in his retirement papers!
While most people dream of this day, my other half has been strangely dreading it. The man has worked since he was 12 years old and he’s going to have a hard time adjusting.
To be honest, he’s not handling the aging process well. Instead of looking forward to relaxing… he feels old and unproductive. Put out to pasture, next step death.
It’s been a constant struggle for me to lighten the mood and paint a rosy picture of our lives post employment. This shouldn’t be difficult, we’re debt free and financially secure….
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Well, that could be an issue…. but my workaholic spouse needs the challenge and feeling of accomplishment work provides, and keeping him upbeat is becoming a bit of a chore.
Our original plan was retirement in 2020 and then … sayonara baby, we were going to travel! But the global plague had other ideas and it’s kicked his health paranoia into full gear, so that’s out for now.
I have a honey do list that could keep him busy until the next millennia, but he doesn’t seem interested.
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That could work. But come on, how much time can you actually spend peeing?
The husband doesn’t fish, or carve duck decoys. He isn’t one for sitting still long enough to read a good book or enjoy a sunset from a rocking chair.
I know it sounds silly, but I swear he’s depressed at the very thought of retirement.
Any advice you can offer would be appreciated. My Suzy Sunshine routine is starting to wear a little thin.
As you know, I am not a 25 year old single woman…. (Please refrain from commenting if you value our friendship) so it’s been a while since I leafed through a Cosmopolitan magazine. But for some reason a girlfriend gifted me a subscription, and I felt I needed to honor the gesture.
Hmm.
My hair removal routine is neither adventurous nor worth writing about, and as for the scale….. I’m afraid my hairless cat level will have to remain a mystery. I like my readers, but not that much.
And how do they know walking burrito wasn’t the look I was going for?
Fashion is personal…. and I happen to have the perfect black bean earrings to match, so there!
The selfie wasn’t around when I was young and single, so this may be a day late and a dollar short… but here goes.
Okay, so maybe I need a little more practice.
What kind of noodle am I?
Yes…. I’m beginning to remember why I stopped reading Cosmo in the first place.
(In case you’re wondering? Rigatoni baby.)
I found this issue to be so utterly ridiculous, I may have to make it a monthly series. And if you’re groaning now?
Just be thankful I didn’t share all the articles today.
Yes, it’s clearly been a while since I read single women’s magazines.
And yes, I know.. I know… the Russians own my pictures now. But Mark Zuckerberg’s had them for years, and Google and Amazon probably know my bra size. It’s the world we live in.
FaceApp.
It came out back in 2017, but just recently went viral.
Before everyone realized it was owned by a Russian company, we all flipped the f*ck out had fun watching ourselves age.
Example:
The normal photo of me.
The FaceApp aging photo of me.
I mean, HOLY HELL!
If that doesn’t make you run for the retinol cream, nothing will.
Personally, I prefer the anti aging, younger version.
Oh, to be that young and sweet again.
(Okay, I was never really sweet per se… but I could do without the bunions.)
Said no man, ever.
But you can see how addicting this app can be…. and why it’s so popular.
Normal me?
Old me.
Ack!!
Young me…
Ha!
Not even old enough to drink.
Christ on a cracker… I’m a crone!
With the big hair and eye liner? I look like an aging hooker.
River's world..... 