Truvy was Right...

I never thought about getting older a couple of years ago, because even though I knew I was getting older, nothing really seemed to change. My hair was silky and dark, my eyes had no lines around them, my complexion was smooth and clear. And cellulite, what cellulite? So even though the numbers that correspond to my age were getting higher, I didn't feel a day over 19.

Speaking of 19... Did you know that age 19 is the human body's peak? Oh, how I wasted 19! If I had only known that 19 was the "it" age, I would have walked around showing more skin, wearing tighter clothing-- really flaunting what I had. I would have volunteered to read to old people who couldn't see tiny print, because at 19, I had eagle eye vision. If I had just known.

Last year I turned 26. Big deal, I thought. 26 is just going to be exactly like 25 and 24, maybe even 23. Oh, how wrong I was!

I first started to notice the gray hairs. Now, I've always had a few gray hairs, since age 17, just none that were noticeable to anyone but my stylist. At best, I had like 5 gray hairs on my whole head. But at 26, I started to notice them, even my husband began to notice them. Big deal, I thought, what is a few gray hairs. To correct the problem, I started getting a few highlights and low lights, which added dimension to my dark hair and completely covered up those pesky gray hairs.

After the gray scare, I started to notice that my pants that were once a little loose were getting a little tight in the waist. No biggie, I thought, you probably are just bloated. Later than night, after a long day at work, the hubby and I were watching some horrible commentary show about the 20 best and worst beach bodies. During this horrible show, hubby lovingly looks over at me, pats my stomach and says, "You know, I remember when your stomach was a lot flatter." The wind was sucked from my lungs. He remembers what? Was it true? Have I let myself go? I had a hard time gauging the situation because hubby was all smiles, chuckling to himself and rubbing his every growing belly. For those of you that don't know, my husband has a strange sense of humor and a lot of the time I can't tell if he's joking or serious. Hubby says he was just joking, but I firmly believe that in humor there is truth and lets face it, the pants don't lie. So bye-bye perfect metabolism, hello Hip-Hop Abs.

So 26 was bringing the heat. First, my hair, now my abs-- what's next?

It wasn't long after the Hip-Hop Abs video's arrived on my doorstep that 26 showed it's next little gift. Mr. & Mrs. Pimple-Zit took up residence on my chin and decided not to leave. Before long, I had a little neighborhood of Pimple-Zits all over my chin. Adult Acne! Great! My Esthetician said I was experiencing a hormonal change. So I took myself to the doctor, who changed my birth control prescription and gave me a Rx for Retin-A. Take that Pimples!

The pimples have started to clear (sort of) and I thought life was getting back to normal. But 26 wasn't near done with me. A few Sunday mornings ago, I was walking past my husband on my way to the bathroom when he asked me, "What are those lumpy things on that back of your legs?" Again, the wind was sucked out of me. Was he serious? Did he really want to die today? I was looking for a sharp object, when I found myself screaming, "It's Cellulite! Got that? Cell-u-lite! Mr. I'm-a-man-and-I'll-never-have-to-worry-with-those lumpy-bumpy-things-because-I'm a man!" That Monday morning, I bought a big tube of anti-cellulite gel. I'll keep you informed on how it's working.

Recently I started to notice the the beginnings of crow's feet around my eyes, thank you 26. Any time I think of the word crow's feet I'm reminded of one of my favorite movies, "Steel Magnolia's." In this wonderful movie, the local beauty-technician Truvy, played marvelously by Dolly Parton, tells Julia Robert's character, Shelby, as she complains about the "early stages of crow's feet" that "time marches on, and eventually you realize that it's marching across your face!" No truer words have ever been uttered Truvy. The good news, sorry 26, the Retin-A my doctor prescribed for my colony of zits also is just super at erasing those little fine lines.

I'm worried, 26 is drawing to a close and 27 is lurking around the corner. Who knows what 27 has in store for me... sagging boobs, pot belly... hair loss? But as my father would say, turning 27 is better than the alternative. And he's right you know.