Well - once again we were out and about this past weekend as we went to visit our son the doctor who never calls his mother and his family. We flew to Atlanta as you can see in the pictures and spent 3 1/2 fun days, mostly at the park. What a park! I can't get over it. If we had that park here I would be there every single day. I would be like that "crazy park lady". This park was the biggest park I have ever seen. It actually rivals Central Park but without the zoo. If you ever get to Atlanta, check out the Piedmont Park. Fabulous.
Anyway - that is not the lady that I am talking about. This week I have suffered two huge blows. On the way back home we took the airport shuttle from the terminal to our car. Fine. The shuttle driver turned to us and asked if anyone was retired and on Social Security. Ralphy said that he was and what did she want to know? She was asking how you go about contacting Social Security. Do you go to their office? Do you call? How do you get the ball rolling? Then she said that she was turning 65 in November.
That's all I had to hear. You should have seen this lady. She looked like a 75-year-old. Face wrinkled up, grayish blonde hair, navy polyester pants that were too short, a pink sweatshirt that said "I love my Grandma", and the shoes. You know what kind of shoes I mean. This lady is 4 years older than I am. FOUR years older. I immediately turned to Ralphy and whispered "Hon, do I look that old?" Of course, he said "No" or I would have thrown him off the bus. This situation bothered me for the whole day. I came home and washed the makeup off my face, put on my "around the house" T-shirt. Now, come on, girls!! Doesn't everyone have one of those? I brushed the hairspray and goop out of my hair. I turned around and looked in the mirror. I was horrified.
My eyelids are hanging over my eyeballs (I actually discussed this very subject with my son the doctor who never calls his mother). My face is very blotchy. My cheeks are hanging. I have facial hair. And we all know what happens to breasts, stomach, and thighs - especially at this age. Forget about it. Down to the floor.
PLEASE, GOD!! THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING TO ME! I AM NOT READY!
And - here is the pisser. I had a doctor appointment on Wednesday. So - I go trotting in all happy. The new nurse greets me and was very nice and friendly. Wouldn't you know that the first place she took me was to the fricking scale. I wasn't too worried because, obviously, I have a very distorted view of how I look.
I am a sexy beast.
So - I get on the scale and right in front of my face was this huge mother of a weight chart. Right next to my weight was a line. On the left of the line was my exact weight that day. On the right of the line is said -
So, now I am just shy of Social Security, my eyelids are hanging, my boobs scraping the floor, and now I am one pound short of obese. Oh, and did I mention that I actually call Bingo here at the community center on Friday nights?
Guess what - I am that lady.