Let Them Eat Cake!

For the last forty years, the numbers on the bathroom scale have stared back at me with a stark reality I find discomforting.  It doesn't matter if they are near my "alarm" number or if they are near my lowest number.  Neither end of the spectrum will please me.

"Dear Scale, 

 

It's no longer your fault that I hate you.  It's my fault.  When your LED digits teeter too high, I worry about my butt.  Will I fit into my jeans?  Is a muffin top sure to appear soon?  How many calories do I have left today?

As your number fell to a decade's low, my happiness was tempered by the appearance of saggy and crepe laden skin.  WHAT?  Losing weight doesn't mean attractiveness anymore?"

 Sigh.  Weight gain and weight loss must take a back seat to skin laxity.  How long will it take me to become an expert on this dilemma and where can I buy a skin scale?

Anxiety Observer

By reading all these self help books, one would think I would be prepared for an encounter with an anxiety ridden divorced man.  Alas, I was taken completely by surprise when I observed a poor fellow encounter his own divorce demon...a demon chanting "I'm not ready for this" silently in his head while he tried to enjoy his evening.

Seeing this first hand, I wonder at my own preparedness.  If I get a clamoring from my inner demons, will I have the guts to simply call a stop to the date and declare, "I'm not ready for this" or will I sit there tied up in anxiety ridden knots until I can escape into the evening?  

As a good friend pointed out, my divorce was simply an end to a long painful process.  This gentleman, who was taken by surprise at his marriage's end, is entering his process of pain.  He's embarrassed by his perceived weakness so I don't get a chance to reassure him.  Were I to get the chance, I might say something like this:

"It's really okay.  Even though my experience at dating is just a couple months longer than yours, that short period of time has been ripe with poignancy and comedy.  One date at a time will teach you much about yourself and a lot about the opposite sex.  Don't give up on the process.  When you figure out that you ARE ready again, just remember that folks who are divorced at our age have more in common than not.  It's really okay."

   

Ah, vanity...

Autumn has arrived again.  Poignancy for the turning of the leaves and chilling of the air hits many Floridian transplants this time of year.

I had my moments of reflection for the third season last week in Washington, DC when the temperature dipped below fifty degrees.  I watched the birds flying south...I made the obligatory stop at an apple stand...I donned a cardigan and now, I'm happily done with reminiscing about autumn.

Instead, I will give into my vanity and thank my lucky stars that Florida is beginning the first of its many months of lower humidity.  Autumn and winter will be "good hair" seasons.  Let the celebration begin and the vanity indulgence take over.  Good hair.  Good hair.

Oh, wait, shouldn't I be more concerned with the upcoming Presidential election?  Isn't that more important than pleasant temperatures and good hair?  Perhaps the two go together as a happier female electorate is more likely to get out and vote thereby truly influencing the direction of the country's policies.

But it's really just about getting good hair...vanity and honesty...strange but satisfied bedfellows.