Archive for March, 2011

The Unfairness of Pimples for Seniors

March 31, 2011

The Unfairness of Pimples for Seniors

My neighbor is going to a big wedding this weekend: rehearsal dinner, ceremony, and a fancy bash. She’s the “date” of her good friend, the mother of the groom. Her friend recently broke up with her boyfriend, so my neighbor is standing in.

My neighbor is into the occasion. She got her hair colored and cut. She selected her favorite fancy dress and had it dry cleaned. She went for a manicure and pedicure.

Today came an unwelcome catastrophe: TWO big zits on her face. How is this fair?

We seniors deal with the effects of gravity on our faces and bodies, our mounting maladies of bunions, type 2 diabetes, controlling our weight, blood pressure, high cholesterol, hair loss, the fluctuations of the stock markets and our retirement portfolios, menopause, new aches and pains every day, problem adult children, rising costs on fixed incomes, awaking several times a night to go to the bathroom, age discrimination if we want to work, and loneliness. We should at least be free of the pimples of adolescence!

I did see an article in the New York Times last week for a pimple zapper. It cost about $300 and was supposed to get rid of the offending pimples. Is that the kind of investment we want to make over a treadmill or new patio furniture? I think not.

 

 

Annie Does a Singles Dance

March 13, 2011

Annie Does the Singles Dance

Every week I get an email from Dr. Cupid inviting me to a Calculated Couples Dance. I probably go to one a year. As I haven’t been for a while, I decided to go last night. The dance was at the Doubletree Inn which is less than a mile from my house. I played computer Scrabble beforehand so I wouldn’t be tempted to get there on time. My experience is that the women arrive on time and the men an hour or two later.

I put on makeup and picked out an outfit that was comfortable, except for the heels. Just dark black jeans and a black and gold top.

I had to use valet parking as the only parking was way at the back and I didn’t relish walking there later as it was not well lit. I checked in and received a “want ad” to fill out and put up on the wall. This I declined. For the first time in my life I didn’t get a name tag either.

The room was filled with us single seniors, although it is not billed as such. I pity anyone under fifty who thinks they’ll find a match at one of these dances. I was “young” for the crowd. Many of the women were completely decked out: big hair, tight black or metallic dresses with lots of cleavage showing. Although I have lots of cleavage, none of mine was showing. It’s obvious in anything I wear, including a sweatshirt. There was another contingent of women who just like me, presenting themselves as they are without much embellishment. The latter group seemed to be having as much luck finding men as the former group. The men were dressed much more casually.

I went directly to the bar to get a drink. The man in front of me looked exactly like one of my friend’s ex-boyfriends. He wasn’t that guy, though. He bought my beer! We were deep in discussion about the crazy people who working with him at the post office when a woman he knew asked him to dance. I wasn’t miffed, it was a good way to meet someone else.

I noticed that many of the women were seated. Not me. I am not playing that wallflower “please ask me to dance” game. I stood between two fellows and said I positioned myself to talk to two attractive men. One immediately asked me to dance. The song was a slow one. He didn’t dance dirty or hold me too tightly. We used the quieter music as an opportunity to small talk. He was just getting over his divorce and had recently moved to Arizona. He was going to start working as a bartender because his pension wasn’t enough to live on. Tell me about it! When he started mentioning how much he loved shooting and guns, I knew this guy and I were not on the same wavelength. He figured it out, too, so I didn’t have to make up an excuse when the fourth slow song ended.

I got another beer and stationed myself by the exit. The man next to me said he recognized me from previous dances. When I told him I didn’t attend many, he said he knew but I was a very “memorable woman.” Hmm. I gave him my card so he could look up my blog. Maybe he’ll call, but he probably won’t.

 

Another Birthday Coming Up: Where Did Those Jowls Come From?

March 11, 2011

Another Birthday Coming Up: Where Did Those Jowls Come From?

I have another birthday coming up next week on St. Patrick’s Day. Last year I went out to an Irish bar with a bunch of friends and my beau at the time. It was great fun. I think once every five years is enough to do the bar thing.

No beau this year. I went to Costco today and bought myself three collared polo shirts. And I intend to buy myself a wireless printer for my Munds Park cabin. I told my kids to buy me flowers in pots so I can enjoy them here and then take them up north in May. That is, if they survive. I do forget to water plants.

I noticed that although I’ve “winked” at people on Match.com, no one has winked back. I’m wondering if my age is a factor. I checked my profile and saw that it said “sixty.” I guess that’s when I first posted it. I’m going to be sixty-three. I do look younger than my chronological age. (Isn’t that what everyone says?) I tried to change my age to fifty-nine, but couldn’t figure out how to do it. Hmmm.

Why is it I notice the aging process creeping up on me right before my birthday? I looked in the mirror last week and was shocked to see that I have the beginning of jowls. I think that’s what the sagging on either side of my face, just above my chin is called. When I get out of the shower in the morning, my face looks its best. It’s hard to see the wrinkles when my skin is all puffed out from the steam of a hot shower. I choose not to peer at my face the rest of the day. I am quite good at zooming in on my hair without noticing the wrinkles.

As I ponder my mortality, I’m not sad. I’ve satisfied that I did the best I could and helped others. I would like to see my youngest son enjoy his life, my middle son enjoy parenthood, and have time with my granddaughters. I have only a few things on my bucket list: Get my novel published and do more international volunteering and traveling. How’s your bucket list?

 

 

When is Old Age

March 6, 2011

When is Old Age?

Every day there’s an article in the paper or a segment on television on how Baby Boomers are redefining the aging process. They will be healthier because they exercise, eat right, and learn a new skill. I think rather than redefining aging, they are denying it. I read in the paper today that Baby Boomers identify 72 as the beginning of old age.

What happened to “don’t trust anyone over 30?” Has it changed to “Don’t trust anyone under 60?” My generation seems to think we can wish away old age. Yet here are some things to consider:

  1. How many medications do you take every day?
  2. Are you stiff when you first get out of bed?
  3. Is your “sweet tooth” getting worse?
  4. When was the last time you stayed out late?
  5. Do you avoid driving in the dark?
  6. Are you less critical of people who get facelifts?
  7. Do you hold Social Security and Medicare as sacred, not socialism?
  8. Do you have to ask people to repeat themselves, especially in a noisy environment?
  9. Do you feel nostalgic when you think about Rice Krispies (Snap, Crackle, and Pop)?
  10. Are your friends all looking tired and older?
  11. Are ailments a major source of conversation with your peers?
  12. Are naps a source of delight?

We want to believe that getting older only happens to our parents, poor things. Iasked quite a few of my friends if they would look at moving to a tiered living community. Each one was shocked. We were too young to be thinking of that! They wanted to stay in their homes as long as possible. This from the same people who had to battle with their parents to convince them of more appropriate housing!

I’m not saying my life is over. Far from it! I intend to work, travel, work out, enjoy my grandkids, find romance and sex, walk my dog, and live life to its fullest every day. But I’m realistic that I need to consider my options. I am only one accident or bad fall away from temporary or permanent dependence on others. I need to lose weight as much for appearance as so someone can manage to move me, should it be necessary. People are living longer and better, but the human body does wind down. Live in the moment!