Reunion Update

So I'm just about 3 weeks away from this reunion thing I'm attending and the situation is getting serious. Last night, for example, I spent a good hour pouring over pictures of myself in tanner, toner times and lamenting aloud on the injustice of aging. I mean, there was a time when I could have a picture taken from any angle without flinching and every pose wasn't centered around S.A.P.P (strategic arm in photo placement)...I'd put my triceps right on out there and not risk nausea when the pictures were printed.

There was a time when tube tops didn't require a second thought and bikinis weren't worn under moo-moos. There was a time when getting a tan was a spectator sport, as in I allowed spectators, but now tanning is confined to an ultraviolet tube at $20 a pop. Obviously I have to start up the sunless tanning, with only 3 weeks and not a pound lost, my only hope is to camouflage the fat under a layer of bronze, and this tinted lotion is pooling between my fingers, leaving a lovely orange-fungus look to my hands. At least with the tanning bed, even if everyone suspects you bought it, you can still maintain the illusion that you recently returned from a weekend in Cabo; whereas, the uneven orange stains lapping around your ankles tend to shatter that idea.

For the life of me, I cannot understand what happened. I mean my face is as lovely as ever, if a bit fuller, but the body...not so much. So maybe I didn't drink quite so many glasses of wine back then, and I certainly hadn't discovered Mimosas. Oh, and there were probably fewer nachos and more salads in my diet, and I did live at the bottom of a very steep hill and walked to class everyday. But other than that I was exactly the same, so where did the pounds come from? It is certainly a mystery, one that I doubt can ever be solved. It seems as a reward for graduating and getting a real job, nature immediately plants a good 15 lbs. on you so you can add gym time to your list of daily obligations and waistline to your list of stressors. Of course once you're sucked into the corporate world, you haven't the time to lose those pounds, so 15 turns into 20 turns into 25 and after that it's just goodbye low-rise jeans, hello elastic waistbands. I can finally afford designers jeans, I just can no longer get in them...the world is so cruel.

The reunion saga continues...next week tanning, then begins the hunt for the perfect illusion outfit. You know, the one that pretends it's not trying to hide your ass, though it clearly is, and is accessorized so well you're just sure no one can see past your fabulous shoes and matching handbag. Yeah, looks like I'll be breakin out the ol' credit card for this one, but it will be well worth it to spend the weekend ass-agita free!!