Today, a little lighter fare, after quite a few heavy posts.
“Nobody grows old merely by living a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals. Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul.” ~Samuel Ullman
In order to broaden your educational horizons, I have gathered a few more interesting facts about turning forty…which happened, oh, almost 3 years ago. So, I’ve had some time to make some additional observations.
Perhaps you can identify?
Recently, I’ve noticed I’m losing some hair. Okay, so I’m afraid I am going bald. There seems to be so much shed when I wash it, condition it, and then comb it after I shower, that I can’t see how I am going to have any left by the time I am 44. No, I have not recently given birth. But I did have quite the post partum hair loss, but those days ended 14 years ago.
It is a mystery.
But I am considering getting the info from Hair Club for Men just in case. Cause I have seen a few women in their most recent commercials; I may not be such an anomaly after all. Or maybe I’ll get me some of that spray on hair. Whichever. Oh, yeah, and I am planning to take out some stock in Drano—the new kind with the snake-y thing attached. My drain is not happy with me!
Additionally, I fear that the vertical thing between my eyeballs which I once referred to, ever so daintily, as a frown line, can now easily be called a crater, a crevice, or, let’s be honest here—a crack in the tectonic plates of my face. I don’t think there is enough spackle at my local Lowe’s to get the job done. There are also a couple of parentheticals on my face that are deepening even as I type.
My “bingo wings” are still in full force…maybe even fuller force, if that is possible. Bingo wings? This term, was coined (as far as I know) by my BFF’s daughter (AKA my faux niece, for she does call me Aunt Jo). The term “bingo wings” describes that flabulous flank of saggy skin on the backside of your biceps which, when you score a BINGO! and you wave your arm in the air to acknowledge your win, undulates like a bird’s wing a-flapping in the breeze. If this describes you, then, BAM!! you’ve got yourself a bingo wing! Maybe two! I reckon it’s nothing a few thousand triceps dips couldn’t cure. Triceps dips, yeah, right. Not. happening.
I am also noticing some of those age spots. You know the ones they used to advertise that cream for back in the day? I’ve got a couple on my face. Lots on my hands and arms. Maybe pretty soon, I’ll just be one big ole age spot and no one will notice any of them. Here’s hoping.
What makes it all even more fun is having a daughter with a hilarious sense of humor who loves to take candid pictures of me at the most inopportune times and then post them to Facebook. I try to get the camera and delete them, but sometimes I’m just not fast enough. Gotta love that kid!
Enjoy the montage courtesy of Emma, my personal paparazza. Go ahead, have a laugh at my expense. It’s okay. It will be you one day, when you have your own personal photog documenting your aging progress. Until then, I’ll keep you posted on my journey toward aging gracefully.
Oh, who am I kidding? I’m going kicking and screaming. My body may wrinkle, but my soul never will! Can’t wait to see what 45 brings!
And for all my fellow wrinkled ladies, here is the very funny Anita Renfroe.