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alright y’all, check it out … i’m gonna drop a beat here for you to listen to while you read below because i feel it really sets the tone for this post.

 it was saturday and it was nap time. the perfect pause in my day otherwise known as my golden hours of freedom. i lathered myself up in victoria’s secret bombshell lotion,

 bombshell

(because few things define me so well)

i misted my hair with straight sexy hair

straightsexyhair

(nobody wants just “straight hair” – amiright?)

i slipped on my 2.5 inch heels and headed out the door.

this hot little number was waiting for me outside:

Blog pic

 you haven’t heard anything till you’ve heard its sweet sienna engine purr like a kitten. i put on my larger than life sunglasses and bumped up the volume on my stereo…apparently the easy listening station of my childhood has now morphed into a hip mix of matchbox twenty and goo goo dolls – who knew they’d be so progressive?

my destination was, of course, the outdoor mall. i would normally go straight to my bread and butter stores…the loft, the gap, the dillards…but not that day. that day my waistband was feeling a little looser, the flab under my arms a little tighter, the bags under my eyes a little brighter. i decided to head straight for aeropostale, because why the heck not? i’ve been known to get a little trendy every now and then – add a little cardi to my cargos; toss a braided belt round the ol’ maxi. in college, i even worked at the express. they don’t let just anyone work there, people. i won 3rd place in jean sales for a summer season. i could match a denim to your arse in 7.2 seconds flat. but i digress…

aeropostale was my obvious first choice. now, it did seem odd to me that they allowed a bunch of elementary school children to work there, but i believe in teaching a strong work ethic at an early age so i continued on toward the frayed denim shorts. i picked out my size (the size every other lying and deceiving department store swears is the right size for my matronly curves), zipped straight into the dressing room to try it on and voila!

i was workin’ it. no. no, i wasn’t. but i do agree with the lady pictured above in that all men are officially dangerous. the point is, the stupid shorts got stuck around my thighs. as in, i couldn’t pull them up to where shorts normally go. they just got stuck there with me desperately trying to pull them over my abundant flesh.

and then i looked up. i saw myself  in the mirror. my hair deeply dyed to cover the grays, my tired eyes smeared with concealer the sephora lady suggested was made for “women my age” and my two thighs just hanging out like the two underwater hippo butts that face the crowds at the zoo (http://sazoo.org). and it hit me. this great epiphany, this piece of sky parting and lights shining down on my face and angel choirs loudly singing “you are not 18 anymore”.

and you know what? it kinda made me sad. because i miss 18 and 19 and 20 and 21 and even 25. i miss the ease of it. the skin tightness of it. the laughter in it. and the problems that came with it that were not really problems at all.

but i also realized that being 34 trying to cling to my youth is exhausting. that i am missing out on the beauty of the present trying to hold onto the beauty of the past. i spent a good portion of my youth trying so hard to make myself look better without realizing that i was enough. and i don’t want to spend another 10 years trying to rewind myself to that time. i want to fully immerse myself in today because i know that in another 10 years i will be mourning this moment wishing i had cherished it more.

so, i took the teeny shorts off, said goodbye to the little worker girl at the door who was all “like, totally have a good day ma’am”, let the “ma’am” roll of my back and headed toward the loft – a little place of mall where all the middle-aged women go to feel moderately sized and somewhat fashionable. and, darn it if the clothes aren’t perpetually on sale! though my husband may not understand it, i am forced by the laws of nature to love that place.

though this may sound like an ode to the loft. it’s actually an ode to my current stage of life. to living in the moment of now and learning how to appreciate and love it. and praying that i will always be able to see the good in the present and learn to let go of what once was.

p.s. driving a sienna minivan is a little bit of a harder pill to swallow, but i’m working on it, ok people?

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