There comes a time in life that you just have to do it, accept - accept who you are, or who you've become, you know? I look at myself in the mirror and it scares me, The last year has apparently just not been kind to me physically. Ma warned me what happened after you turn 30, but sheesh! And I've been having this thought for a couple of months, inspecting the crows feet at the corners of my eyes, or that thing your stomach does when it's just enough out of shape to look bad in a short shirt, but not so bad that you head for the moomoo section at Wal-Mart. My rump too, but we won't go there. It's just that those last two mentioned areas used to be the two places I considered to be my best attributes. I no longer consider them that.
But, I also figure that at 32, if I finally stop getting carded for cigarettes, or hit on by teen-age boys, it isn't necessarily a bad thing right? I'm a little less likely to flaunt what I've got in the light of day, and I doubt I'll be prancing in a bikini this summer, like I was last year.
I am getting older, and it shows, and I may as well just face it, right? It's not like I'm Cher. I can't have the offending areas sucked out, tucked, re-stuffed or relocated, and I wouldn't if I could. (would I?) So I've been very resistant to adding any new pictures to anything - the ones I use are all at least 6 years old. I suppose I should throw some make-up on and smile and say cheese. Because there comes a time in life that you just have to do it, accept - accept who you are, or who you've become, you know?
I must be on the "heavy rotation schedule" for the "next blog" function. My stats are through the roof today!