Hide the children. The following is not suitable for younger and more sensitive readers, by which I mean those under 50.
My body is doing some funky stuff. I suspect aging may be involved.
1) Stuff is migrating. Formerly vital parts of my body, front and back, have become snowbirds. They moved south. We’d become quite close over the years and I miss them. My hair is also relocating. There’s a steady exodus going forth from my scalp to colonize brave, new lands like the chin and the bazoombas.
2) Inside stuff is showing up outside: My circulatory system has been operating behind the scenes my whole life. I’ve appreciated that discretion. Lately, however, it wants attention. Note to self: no need to put veins on the outside of my legs. The fact that I am still with the living is proof enough that the blood is moving.
3) New stuff is being manufactured: My skin has had its moments over the years, but now it’s REALLY getting creative. New bumps, lumps, grooves and splotches are popping up all over the place. The latest additions are neither attractive, nor, as far as I can tell, do they serve any useful purpose.
4) Some stuff is growing. Burgeoning bunions have me looking longingly at orthopedic shoes while desperately clinging to high-heels. My bulging belly is spreading at an alarming rate. I’ve heard that the ears and nose continue to grow, up to and possibly even after death. I haven’t noticed that yet; it gives me something to look forward to.
5) Some stuff is shrinking. I’m already almost 1/2 inch shorter than I used to be. My lips are shrinking, too, their former pouting lushness morphing to a thin, mean line. If this keeps up I may consider having that fish-lip surgery that’s mandatory for the wealthy and all reality show bimbos over the age of 30.
6) I’ve lost The Night Stuff: I used to be able to dance the night away, close the joint down, go out for breakfast and still be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for work the next day. Now I’m dozing in front of the TV in my sweats before Pat and Vanna flip their first letter.
7) Some foodstuffs are rough. Food and drink once made a smooth, trouble free journey through my body. Now such trips often result in a breakdown at the side of the digestive track, leaving me waiting for a tow truck from AAA (Alimentary Aggravation Abatement.) ‘Nuff said.
8) Stuff hurts. With the notable exceptions of childbirth and gall bladder attacks, my nerve endings used to be in the business of delivering good news; things like “Oh, baby, yeah, baby…THAT’s the spot!” Now, however, they’re saying, “your parts can’t move like that” and “don’t sleep in that position” and “it’s going to rain.” My nerves are the Whos down in Whoville shouting, “We are here! We are here!”
9) Can’t find stuff. My brain cells have been abandoning ship at an alarming rate and my memory is shot. I KNOW I know your name, where I put my car keys, and what I had for dinner last night, but I can’t find that information in my mental filing cabinet. Important stuff, like world history, is lost forever.
There you have it. That’s the stuff that’s going on with me. I had a much longer list when I started this rant, but I can’t remember the rest of it.
Any funky stuff going on with you?
Peg-o-Leg's Ramblings 
All of the above. Who invented skin tags anyway?
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Tag, you’re it.
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OMG! That’s exactly what I was thinking! With all that manufacturing of new stuff, you’d think the body could cough up a bucket to carry the freak show around.
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You must remember to concentrate on the inner beauty that is Peg-o-Leg. If that doesn’t work, think about the over-the-counter stem cell replacement kits that will surely be available in the very near future.
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Even my inner beauty needs a face-lift, Al!
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Gosh, I don’t know what to say. I definitely can’t party the night away, but then I was always a bit of a wuss in that area, particularly if I’ve had any alcohol because that just sends me right to sleep. And the remembering where I left stuff one too, not great on that, but I put that down to doing too much and having too much to think about. Aside from those though, I’m thankful to not be able to relate to the others yet. I’m 43, so I guess I have a few more years before those all kick in? I may print off your list and keep it so that I know what to start looking for later.
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You’re a mere baby, VJ. Maybe you’ll be like Christy Brinkley who, at 60 still looks hot. Either she has incredible genes, or she drinks the blood of slaughtered baby goats during satanic rituals.
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Well I’d better not take any chances, where can I find myself some baby goats I wonder…
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They sell them at Goats R Us. Just look in the satanic rituals department.
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Of course, doh!
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I love that your mummy is wearing ruby red slippers.
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That’s not her mummy, that’s Peg.
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yeah, my mummy wears white, orthopedic Rockports.
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But with jazzy socks?
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You should try clicking your heels together three times and making a wish. Although, based on that picture, I’m not sure you can move your ankles.
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I’m with Al, it’s all about inner beauty (at least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself).
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Let’s keep telling ourselves that, shall we?
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That’s my plan.
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Yeah, if the skin tags are happening on the outside, just imagine what’s percolating inside.
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Never thought of that. You mean they might be just the outer manifestation of more inner weirdness? Great.
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Peg, you and I hun you and I. But I am going to give it all a valiant fight to the very end.
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You go, girl!
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I’m only 48 & I’ve got a lot of that going on. Love not having a period anymore (especially since my 2 daughters have THEIR periods), but the rest of menopause can take a hike.
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You’re right – THAT part is pretty great. Gotta look on the bright side.
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You’re not alone. I too find all of the above occurring – not to mention the added bonus of butt and boob droopage. Perrrfect! And dare I say it, but I think I saw the beginnings of “turkey neck” in the mirror the other day. It’s the beginning of the end my friend, but at least we have that in common! 🙂 Great post.
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That was what I meant by the “moving south, front and back” bit. Too subtle, eh?
I didn’t even mention the turkey neck – that’s just too, too painful to even think about.
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Yep, I can totally relate. I went down the list going, check, check, check…got all that going on.
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You’re too young for this shiz!
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Can I throw the ol’ bladder into this mix? It’s got a mind of its own now…
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Oh yeah. I don’t have that particular problem, but I know a lot of people (men and women) who do. Traveling is a constant game of “potty, potty, who’s got the potty?”
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Bladders have no sense of humor. Laugh and they make you pay for it.
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Haha! Too, too true.
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oops…
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I must say I identified with each and every one of the above changes. So far I’ve managed to keep decent teeth. Opps! Now I’ve jinxed that! My husband and I used to measure the severity of a life event by how many times we said, “But at least we still have our health.” So what do you do when you don’t even have that anymore? Now we say, “It’s better than the alternative.” As long as the grim reaper isn’t hovering.
What do I miss the most? I would have to say being able to see without grabbing readers or resorting to bifocals. My husband has those and is always adjusting his head to find the sweet spot. I’m developing cataracts so I think my vision struggle is just in its infancy.
Great post! Thanks for the laugh this morning!
Marcia
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I say that all the time now, “It beats the alternative.”
I forgot about the eyes, although mine were always pretty bad so it’s not much worse. My hubby has that problem with “cheater” glasses stored all about the house.
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I’ve long thought that the bits that went south were partying without me; now that I read that you, too, have missing bits (along with your commenters), I’m pretty sure there is one hell of a party somewhere down south to which we have not been invited. Apparently, it’s junior high all over again.
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I sure wish I could go to that party, but it’s probably past my bedtime, anyway.
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Nobody warned me about the sneeze pee which has diversified into the cough/laugh/jump pee.
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Oh yeah, that. Yuck.
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Actually, I’m feeling pretty good! I imagine once I hit 40, everything’s gonna break down though.
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You don’t have to rub it in.
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Hey, the worst is behind you, right? I’ve got it all to look forward to!
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No, the way I understand it, the worst is still ahead of me….us.
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You don’t know how right you are.
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As a card carrying senior citizen, I can tell you that everything you wrote, quite wittily, by the way, is spot on and it evolves even further as your “golden years” approach. I wrote my own post along a similar theme nearly five years ago (sheesh, has it been that long already?). http://mindfuldigressions.com/2009/09/10/the-incredible-shrinking-man/
That Mother Nature is a cruel mistress and, well, Father Time is just a mean, old bastard.
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They make a lovely couple.
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I’m sorry to hear about you parts migrating south. But I think the ultimate step in that process is when all the parts get together and migrate all the way down to Florida – and I feel you’re still a long way from that step.
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Once they’re in Florida they’ll have to worry about even more weird age/sun/liver spots.
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Other than the veins, all of that has been happening to me since I was a teenager!
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You’re right, actually. We just don’t notice it as much until the rate of deterioration starts to accelerate around 50.
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Hahaha, thanks for a great laugh this morning! I love the one about your ‘creative’ skin. So true, isn’t it? What I don’t understand is how for so many years we’re able to neglect our eyebrows save for the occasional plucking, but after a certain age, all of a sudden they require non-stop attention. It’s like hair-growth gone mutant. I think my poor husband’s ready to throw in the towel on that front. 🙂
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My husband’s brows keep growing long, mutant hairs that he could use for a comb-over. Although he still has a full head of hair at almost 60, so it’s not needed….yet.
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A full head of hair at almost 60? Now that’s impressive!
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You’ve said it better than most of us could, and I can totally relate. I was shocked recently when my regular physician told me I was almost an inch shorter than I used to be. I was hoping I had lost weight and my pant legs just looked longer. Wrong on both counts.
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Dang! We need to put some time in on the rack being stretched. Medieval torture chamber as beauty secret?
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Remember those gravity boots where you hung upside down?
Wait! Maybe not a such a good idea these days…
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That was never a good idea for me.
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Visions of black eyes and broken noses….
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Reblogged this on Virginia Views and commented:
This is really funny! Or is it?
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Thanks for the reblog. Been there/living that, eh?
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This is so funny I reblogged it!
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I can relate! Those creative skin thingies are the worst. Along with the white hair in the eyebrows and south of the border. And I’ve never had dark hair so why are the hairs on my upper lip and chin black and as thick as guitar strings?
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That might come in handy if you need to restring something, eh?
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Seriously glad to know that it is not just me. p.s. And … eeeeew. Old is gross, isn’t it?
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Yes, but it beats the alternative. That’s what I keep telling myself.
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Good point.
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All the above. I am 54 and this last year everything is going south. I have made the decision to give up, and just be old, and enjoy the freedom of not having to compete
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You have not. That’s just what you’re TELLING yourself you should do. C’mon – fess up.
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They don’t call it Mid-life for nothin’! I’m up in the middle of the night, everything I eat goes to my middle, and I forget what I’m saying right in the middle. . .
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Haha! Wish I’d thought of that.
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Steal it 😉 Writers have a name for it, I think it’s called a Swipe File. But as fR as I know it’s original to me and I’m sharing with you!
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Swipe file? Is that the name? I thought it was called plagiarism.
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That’s what I thought too, but then I’m not a copywriter. Get it ? Copy— writer.
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Where’s a drum roll when you need one?
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Oh please, my frontal region headed south right after I had my babies. And I was only in my 30s! I fear I will have to visit a doctor to make them come back up North.
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Ah, the Lincoln Surgery – reuniting the north and south.
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Oh lord…I keep tearing up that AARP letter I seem to get every week now, but it doesn’t help! Love your ramblings!
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Studies show all that mail from AARP actually makes us get old. I believe it.
(Thanks for stopping in!)
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What baffles me is how I *know* that I know someone’s name or where I left my keys. If I know that I know it, why don’t I just know the information about the thing I know I know. You know?
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I know. It’s purely a filing malfunction. Somebody stuck all that info in our brain files, but messed up the Dewey Decimal system.
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I’m hoping I remember where I’m going with this before I get to the end of writing it…I get up and go to another room for a reason, but once I get there I’m not sure what the reason was.
Phew, made it.
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I try to write myself sticky notes before I write anything longer than 1 paragraph. It works as long as I can find the notes.
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The first one especially made me smile as Li’l D just asked me, “Mommy, why are you boobies hanging all the way down there?” Fortunately, he quickly followed up with, “Is it because there’s so much milk in there?” :p
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Hahaha! Out of the mouths of babes, eh?
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And here I thought I was in for a Rick James retrospective.
This was funky indeed.
Thanks for sharing.
Excuse me while I go back to my plastic surgery pre-meeting analysis. First stopping to buy a new notebook the list is that long.
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See if we can get a 2-for-1 deal.
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I can relate to everything moving South. When I can, I am going to get a little surgery to hoist everything back into place. I don’t want to have to tuck my chest into my pants.
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Thanks for that mental image. erp.
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What’s with the size 20 in the junior department, and size 2 in the women’s department? Who do they think they are fooling? The juniors I mean. And what’s with the Shar-Pei skin hanging out over the armpit of the sleeveless tops?
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That Shar-Pei skin thing is another one that is just too, too depressing to even mention.
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I won’t mention it then.
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“Growing old aint for wusses.” When my grandfather gave me that pearl of wisdom, his ears were already damn big. Now that he’s been gone for quite a few years, I can only imagine how big they are now. Irrespective of his current possible resemblance to Dumbo, he knew what he was talking about.
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Your grandpa was right. We’re not turning into geezers – we’re brave pioneers conquering a tough, new land.
I wanna go home!!
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Hilarious, well written!
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Thanks for stopping by.
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What irks me is the fact that I now have acne. Acne! This is just not right. I though I left that all behind when I was 18. It’s like a surprise every morning when I look in the mirror, “ooh! What’s it gonna be today? New wrinkles, chin hairs or zits?”
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At least your body is mixing it up to keep thingss interesting, right? Right? Besides, you make all that look good, Darlonica Lake.
How’s life as a distinguished graduate?
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Sadly, I can all too well relate to all of the above. Life’s a peach!
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…and my face is a peach – full of fuzz!
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Came over here for a laugh, you win.
Have you happened to notice Long Arm Syndrome? You know, where you have to extend your arm half way across the room to read a book or menu? What a sorry state of affairs that is!
Psst the troll doesn’t frequent here does he? Damn nearly got shot for opening my mouth 😯 Note to self, don’t comment on “race” related posts.
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My husband has Long Arm Syndrome. I swear it hit him on his 40th birthday, as promised.
Thanks for coming over – welcome! I avoid controversial topics here, and generally go for silly over substance. Life is too short to invite aggravation from the anonymous blogosphere.
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I used to be 5’7″. Now I’m 5’6″. I can identify with everything else, too. After my hysterectomy, my stomach dropped into where my uterus used to be. How’s that for gravity? Maybe I need to sleep like a bat–inverted. That should really help my dizziness!! 😉
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That used to be cited as a great way to avoid droopage, but I don’t think I’m up to it.
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Oh, Peg! I am left speechless, because I can so relate! All of it! God help us. It kinda sucks! Well, not kinda -REALLY SUCKS! I am also eating everything in sight even if it gives me stomach aches. And sweets….FORGET ABOUT IT! I am more addicted than ever! I have to have 5 desserts a day. Sigh… We didn’t sign up of this, did we?
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Ugh, all age groups have their own health quirks don’t they? I’ve been dealing with a few really annoying things for the past few years, the biggest one being acne. I was a late bloomer I suppose? I didn’t get my first break out til I was 18 and throughout my 20s I have been plagued with the pest. Accutane seems to have eliminated it for now but I still have other issues at large. I’m hoping as I get older the possibility of acne will be reduced! At least one thing to look forward to as I get older.
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Another blogger said she still gets acne in her late 40s, on top of the wrinkles. Sorry to a downer, but there’s no predicting what our fascinating bodies will decide to do.
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I enjoyed this post (when I finally remembered how to find your blog…) The best thing about being so late to this pity party is that it is so much fun to read all the comments!
I could add a few things to your list, having passed through my 50’s and being well into my 60’s. It seems, though, that all those things that migrate/change seem to have a limit as to how far they can go.
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That’s encouraging, anyway. I guess most everything stops dropping when it hits the ground.
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I’d say you pretty much nailed it. Most mornings are spent discovering new bits & pieces I’m sure I didn’t have when I went to bed. The first words out of my mouth are usually, “Where the hell did that come from?”
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Ha! It’s not usually a pleasant surprise, is it?
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I am still laughing at this post! It is so creative, funny and very entertaining! May I share this on my social networks? Others need a good laugh too! ~ Vickie
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Please do! And thanks for stopping by.
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“Now I’m dozing in front of the TV in my sweats before Pat and Vanna flip their first letter.”—Sounds to me like you’re pregnant.
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That was when I got my training for middle age.
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Oh, this is bad. Really bad. Now I’m not going to get anything done, ha ha.
Love your blog! I’ll be back…and back…and back.
Ciao!
Cherdo
http://www.cherdoontheflipside.com
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Thanks so much for the kind words – I’m delighted to have you visit!
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Haha! You and Darla write the most hilarious — and seriously true — stuff about aging. But you forgot about the eyes. Now the fourth year of having to replace expensive bifocals yet AGAIN with the changing vision, I’m actually considering $4,000 lens replacement surgery — what seniors usually get for their cataracts using Medicare — to SAVE me money in the long run. It seriously sucks.
Fortuntely though, all the other stuff hasn’t quite hit me yet. I still wear a bikini, though my brother razzes me that I’m too old to be doing that. I guess being small up top keeps gravity at bay.
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