Aging Rapidly

I used to be excruciatingly thin when I was a young girl. But then “age” hit -- specifically 43. My birthday came and, overnight, I turned into a moose. When I said, “Supersize Me” at my last trip to McDonald’s, I had no idea it would actually happen.

Now I don’t know what to do. Why is it that women gain weight in all the wrong places? I look at young girls and wonder what happened to me. Forget my new additions of cellulite and bulges, but on top of all that, many other changes are taking place. True, I already had the unibrow from my foreign ancestry, but now I sport whiskers and a healthy mustache. Oh, and let’s not forget the many long strands of wiry gray hair that are intertwined with the true black hair on my head.

I’m jealous of men – they age so beautifully. Their gray hair mixes perfectly with the hair of their youth, creating a sophisticated salt and pepper look. When they wear glasses, they look intelligent, alluring, even seductive. My glasses make me look like Red Riding Hood’s Grandma. “What big eyes you have. “ All I need now is a goiter to complete the package.

Some women age gracefully, but they are the same women who seemed elegant and timeless even in their youth. Take my mother. She’s 73 and looks terrific. As a young woman, she had natural grace and style. She held herself like a lady. She even washed her hair. When I was younger, I was gangly and awkward, like a calf learning to walk. I’d knock things down when in close quarters. I was banned from our town’s annual Delicate Pottery and China Show after I bumped into a the Ceramic Chihuahua exhibit, which then fell upon the Tea Cups from Alcatraz display and so on. It was a domino effect that somehow set the place on fire.

Come to think of it, my father has aged well too. He’s 83 but looks like he’s in his early 60s. The fact that I am not aging well leads me to believe that maybe I was adopted. Wouldn’t that be a horrible thing for my parents to spring on me just when I’m battling the cellulite crisis? And how will my real parents feel about me when I look like this?

But I am not a complainer. Others may give up, but when I identify a problem, I don’t stop until I find a solution. I plan to turn this situation around in no time. I am already working hard to get rid of the weight. I do leg lifts to get myself out of my four-poster bed every morning. I sprint to the bathroom since my bladder is no longer functioning as well as it used to, and then I take a brisk run down the stairs to prepare my bacon, eggs, hash browns and toast. I heard tea is very good for the health, so I drive to the local Starbuck's to order a Chai Latte. I was considering riding my bike, but how would I be able to sip the healthy tea and drive home safely simultaneously? Can’t be done.

When I get home, there are three different types of exercise programs that I watch on my VCR. Each is more grueling than the other, and I will make a decision about which one to do in a few weeks. I know the one I choose will be great because everyone on the program looks fantastic.

I also heard you should drink lots of water to stay healthy, but that presents a problem for me. Water is so blah that I actually hate it. No worries. I’ve invented a revolutionary new system to get my water intake for the day. I add lots and lots of ice cubes (which melt into water) to each glass of soda I drink. I found that I have to drink 12 cups of soda a day to get the right amount of water for my body weight. Yes, it's difficult to drink so much soda, but I am disciplined if nothing else. I won’t drink diet soda because research shows that artificial sweeteners are bad for your health.

I used to have dessert before bedtime, until The New England Journal of Medicine reported that it's not good to have fatty sweets in your stomach all night. Now I eat dessert before dinner.

My family is very supportive of me, despite my weight gain. My husband said he’d love me no matter how large I get, and he pointed out that it’s in my favor that his vision is worsening every day. One son asked if I was having another baby, but after he regained consciousness, he retracted his question. Once I thought I heard another son call me “Lardicus” behind my back, but when I confronted him, he told me he was teaching his younger brother about Spartacus, the Roman slave who led an uprising against his captors. I’m so proud that my children are interested in ancient Roman history.

I’ve taken care of the gray-hair issue by purchasing a jumbo, black Sharpie permanent marker. In just 15 minutes, I go from gray to black, and it’s permanent. No dripping chemicals or messy clean-up. Plus, the fumes drive men giddy when they are close to me, which makes me feel very attractive. If you are a blonde or brunette, you will not look as good as I do. Yellow markers don’t look good on blonde hair, and brown permanent markers are hard to come by.

In any case, this is my plan for the rest of my life, I guess. If all this work doesn’t appeal to you, don’t sweat it -- honestly, in the end, we’ll all be dust anyway. Just try not to look too dusty while you’re alive. Thanks for reading. <>