Monday, April 22, 2013

Just A Year


What a difference a year makes.

Last year at this time, I changed my eating and exercise habits, did a juice cleanse, and lost almost fifteen pounds.  I got rid of all my one-piece bathing suits, and had all the energy in the world as I threw myself into some major home redecorating projects.  I felt good.

I went out on my birthday and a guy in line at the club I was waiting to get into gaped openly when I told him how old I was turning that night.

Yes.  I went to a club a year ago, and didn’t get thrown out for being too old, which has happened to me since then.

This year I’m thinking that those jeans that used to fall off me?  Should probably go to the giveaway pile, since they seem to be shrinking.  I’ve had a pain in my neck for four months, despite regular visits to the chiropractor.  And I skipped the gym today.  And last week.  And it just so happens that the guy at the bar I went into just this past weekend waved me right in as I stood in line behind a few others he was harassing for proof of age.  He didn’t even bother to make a show of asking me for ID.

And I guess I just painted a picture of myself as a middle-aged bar hag.

Whatever.  Did you know that Fig Newtons makes cookies?  I mean real ones, not the kind you used to eat at Grandmas.  Yum.

Last year at this time I was marveling at all the grey hairs on my head and decided to stop fighting them and let them grow.  But they still bothered me.

But this year, not so much.  This year, my perspective is that these things are just things that happen.  Life causes us to change.  I'm older.  I feel more settled.  I don’t hang onto the things that used to make me feel younger.  I’ve let them go, just like my one-piece bathing suits.

Which, jeez.  Maybe I should try to replace them, you know, because of all those cookies.  Or maybe not.  After all, I’m not 80.  Yet.

*******





11 comments:

  1. What a fun post! Good for you for being more accepting of the "tinsel" and lapses in gym attendance, and also for embracing your inner middle aged bar hag.

    Do tell more about "real" cookies from the Newton people!

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    1. Thanks for the encouragement! I love how you described my new highlights as 'tinsel.' It's better than 'hag hair,' which is what I call it.

      Ahhh. Fruit Thins. My new love. They are crunchy and sometimes you get a little chewy in there when you bite into the fruit. I love a perfect chocolate chip from the oven or a fresh Oreo as much as the next gal, but these are so skinny that I feel positively healthy when I eat one or four. Never mind the description on the front which boasts "natural flavor with other natural flavor." It's best not to think about that. Here's a link:

      http://brands.nabisco.com/newtons/fruit-thins-cranberry.aspx

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  2. Great post. Hey, we all have to accept who we are at the moment and be a little forgiving. Or, a lot, as is the case with me and my yoga pants.

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    1. Thank you, yes. Acceptance is my word this year. Acceptance of minor flaws, lapses in food judgment, and long afternoons sitting on the couch.

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  3. Bar hags rule! Great post.

    Though I feel like we really need to hear the story of being turned away from the club for being too old...

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    1. Thank you! As for the club fiasco, here it is. It's not pretty or funny, or very nice at all...

      We were ushered into an upstairs roped off area in the bar when it was early and the club needed bodies to fill it. As the night wore on the bodies got younger and we were given free drink cards to fill in the downstairs area. When we got there, the bartenders refused our free drink cards, and when we tried to reclaim our position upstairs, they told us to leave.

      'Blow to the ego' is an understatement.

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  4. I long since stopped worrying about my grey hairs (probably because I have a hard enough time just keeping hair on my head). I did the same thing as you. I changed my diet, started exercising, lost weight, felt great. Yet my back still hurt, my head was still bald, and I refuse to wear a Speedo.

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    1. You know, I've never thought Speedos were so bad. At the very least they give people something else to talk about at the neighborhood pool.

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  5. No, no I'm dyeing my hair. And I'll start worrying when I look to old for the people to even consider that my pot belly might be a new pregnancy. I'm holding out for eternal youth baby.

    For another year or ten.

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    1. Eternal youth would be nice here on earth. But then again I wouldn't want people talking about how I made a deal with the devil, like I do with any number of Hollywood actors.

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