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What really makes men and women different?  I think I’ve found another defining point of difference.  Which would you pick?  I’m not saying there aren’t crossovers.  I struggled with the question.  I have had my eye on a sweet, little Pontiac Solstice for a while, nice roadster  . . . red with all the bells and whistles.  I was actually putting money away to buy it.
 
I also believe that what we live through impacts our response.  If men had babies and endured the ravages childbearing bestows on our bodies, they would be foregoing the sports cars too.  Yes, I gave up my hot, little sports car in favor of one last shot at a hot, little body.  I’m shocked I did it!  Even now it seems so superficial and shallow to me.
 
I have been working hard on the whole health and fitness thing for some time now.  I’m in great shape and workout everyday.  I do it because it makes me feel good.  There are byproducts though.  I’m more fit than most 20-somethings.  I started looking younger too.  Men are interested in me “that way” again.  People treat me differently.  I like it.
 
It wasn’t good enough anymore to look good “in” clothes; suddenly, I found myself yearning for the half-naked days of beachwear and tank tops, shorts and minis, bare midriffs and belly-button rings.  Having children and years of yoyo dieting had taken their toll on my previously unappreciated physique.  I’m not so old yet as to not care.
 
I embraced my narcissism . . . quit smoking . . . cleared out my savings accounts . . . let a surgeon carve up a perfectly healthy body and why?  Is it vanity?  Have I finally reached that “age?”  Have I succumb to commercial and societal pressure to be forever young and beautiful?  OR . . . Has this always been a part of me?  Is it only now that I have the means to do it?  To be honest, its probably some of all of it.
 
Let’s put it in a box and call it “mid-life crisis” . . . the final culmination of disposable income and facing of one’s own mortality.  One of my bosses bought a bright, yellow, convertible Vette last year.  He said he had always wanted one and could finally afford it, so why not?  Well, truth be known, I always wanted perky breasts.  Why not?  I never had them . . . till now.
 
Yes, I plan to be in shape to go toe-to-toe with the BowFlex grandma by this summer.  I think I can take her!  So what’s left but to save up for a tropical cruise and find that perfect bikini?  Aloha!

 

Sorry for the long silence.  The pain meds and surgery were more than I counted on.  It would seem drugs make me inarticulate and disable my ability to put two words together in any meaningful fashion.  I have been providing amusement of a sort to my caretakers though.  I have truly missed my Internet family and appreciate the notes of encouragement.  Thank you.  The fog seems to be parting and I think I’m back.

 

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