I turned 48 yesterday I'm just not sure how I am supposed to act now that I am that much closer to fifty. I want to say on record, I do not feel sorry for myself, and am accountable for all I utter. I choose to poke fun at my lovely figure, it's my perogative and necessary.

I notice a pair of shoes, they are so cute! Could I wear those? I look at my feet. Calluses as big as quarters, bunions a half inch thick, and cracked heels shoot a mild bolt of pain. I think I'll just stick to houseslippers and clogs.
An interesting shade of eye shadow, that might bring out the blue of my irises, new mascara promises to strengthen and lengthen my eyelashes. Facial powder, foundation and anti-aging gadgets will help get rid of those age spots and crows feet, fill in the laughlines and make you look years younger.
I sneeze applying the powder, angry red blotches rise up on my skin, and that interesting shade of eye shadow looks like I went a few rounds in the ring. From all that makeup my eyes get itchy so I rub them, it's waterproof so it doesn't smear but little clumps some off and get under the eyelids. Now I need eyedrops to wash out the mascara.
I guess I'll just stick to a facial scrub and vitamin E, it's working. Maybe I'll go wild and put chapstick on my lips.
I find myself wandering through the junior and misses clothing at the store, I hold up a blouse. How cute! I hold it to my chest, pretty sure I won't get an arm through a sleeve without it ripping completely out. Only then do I look at the tag, size 3! and it's one of those little halter top jobs I wore when I was 18. I remember my image this morning in the mirror and then look at it again. More flesh would be spilling over than the waters of Beaver Lake and Table Rock in flood stage. From the pictures on the news, I don't think I have that much hanging out, but wouldn't be caught wearing that stuff now. When I see girls who do wear these types of clothes, and they are, (how can I say this) "plump" comes to mind, (I was called that in my youth) I can't believe I wore such garb, parading around as they do now. Jeans, why would a big assed girl want to draw attention to this area? It's big enough, let alone having a glittering butterfly or puffy pockets to aid the size.
I'll stick to relaxed fit jeans that will allow me to breath when I bend over (if I have too, try to avoid that) and not cut me off when I sit down that I have to stick my leags in front of me. Shirts or blouses that won't expose any more flesh than from the elbow down and long enough they hang down to the knees. I try to stay away from bright colored, large printed flowers or patterns. Just another way to shout how large I am. Unfortunately, I love those so I'll just think of myself as a walking flower garden and be pretty