So it's official. I'm old. Miss Muffy is going gray. If I were as fabulous as Samantha from Sex and the City I would be running out right this instant to buy hair dye for my kittie. (Although, we all remember how that turned out. Hello carrot top!)
As if it weren't bad enough that my bones creek and my joints pop. And? I swear I'm getting the beginning of a wattle. No, not this type. Eeeww. A turkey neck. The skin on my neck is staring to sag. Hell, everything on my body is heading south.
Do your boobs hang low, do they wobble to and fro.(Try getting that song out of your head. You're welcome.)
Can you tie them in a knot, Can you tie them in a bow.
Do they go flip flop, Do they do that while you hop.
Do your boobs hang looooowwwww.
As if all that were not bad enough, like the fact that all that was buoyant and perky is now loose and pliant is not enough to make me feel like a circus freak, but now my lady parts are going white. It's enough to make a woman want to hide in her room wearing a caftan. A caftan over a couple of pairs of sweatpants, a girdle, a fleece sweatshirt and a down parka... while downing three pints of Ben and Jerry's and a package of mint Oreos. Not that I'd ever consider doing that myself. Um...
And my husband? Barely a gray on his thick head. Not fair not fair not fair.
Am I happy* about this latest aging milestone? Hells no. Am I opening myself up to jokes? Hells yes. Am I also looking for others to come out and admit that their Golden Amber Beaver (Garnier, number 83. Fuck you SJP) is actually a Silver Fox? Oh God, please share in my misery with me. I'm hitting a monumentally low point in my life. It's all down hill from here and the trip will be swift and painful. I'd love to have a passenger or two. We'll play good music and eat Doritos while we hang our old, wrinkly toes out the window.
So tell me, is the Path to Paradise paved with gold or platinum? Silver? White gold? Aluminum? Spill it.
** I can't forget to thank the person (or persons) that nominated me for some Share the Love Blog Awards. I'm honored that someone would name my blog to the list of "Blogs You'll Never Stop Reading". I chuckled, even guffawed, at the nomination for "Best Commenter" (or, as I like to call it the "Dude, You Really Need a New Hobby" award). But I have to admit that I was perplexed by the "Happiest Blog". Do I have a Happy Blog? Really? Uh, okay.
Don't forget to go vote for your favorite blogs by women. Voting starts tomorrow!