By Heather Estay
i have survived a disastrous divorce (and a few both disastrous first dates). i have survived my associates' menopause insanity and my daughter's traumatic nuptials. i am relationship Tim (a actually awesome Kisser), my occupation is regular and pleasurable, the children are introduced, my ex has exited, and my top buddies are as with reference to general as they have ever been (which, truthfully, isn't shut at all). Yep, as I procedure the day I flip the massive Five-O, my existence is admittedly buzzing alongвЂ”but is it buzzing alongside to ''Happy Birthday'' or the topic tune from Jaws ?
Da dum da dum: i am getting a brand new boss who subscribes to the Idi Amin college of Micromanagement. Da dum da dum: Tim's amorous intentions will be turning honorableвЂ”or handing over one other woman's path. Da dum da dum: My ex schemes to re-light our non-existent flameвЂ” eiouyw ! Da dum da dum: My daughter tells me that IвЂ”sexy, younger, superb Fifty meвЂ”will quickly be a grandmother!
(Really, all i wished for my 50th birthday used to be a few chocolate cake and some Botox treatments.)
to not fear. My most sensible acquaintances have a method to drag my existence again jointly back: a rigorous routine of bikini waxing and stomach dancing, martial arts and Myers-BriggsвЂ”good grief!
i ponder if i will live to tell the tale to fifty-one. . . ?
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Additional info for It's Never Too Late to Look Hot
Fifty-three hours and forty-seven minutes may sound like a lot. But when you string it out over six months, it’s just slightly more time than you spend within that same period cleaning your house (depending on your level of domestic hygiene) and much less time than you would spend walking your dog (or, as in my case, letting your dogs walk you). ” Marie pointed out. ” “Sure, he calls about every other day and e-mails me a lot. ” “Give the guy a break, Angie. ” Jess gave up all pretense of taking notes and folded page one into an origami crane.
You know, psychedelic colors, ﬂower children, Tiny Tim, ‘tiptoe through the tulips,’ ” I trilled, grinning merrily, like a patient on a double dose of laudanum. “No? Then perhaps it was another Tyler and Angeline I heard about,” I ﬁnished brightly. Tyler groaned, rolling his eyes. But Angeline, who at twenty-three has more poise than most French diplomats (who are trained to be charmingly eloquent even while denouncing you as a complete ninny), ignored my loony rantings and kissed me on the cheek.
The happy, noisy birthday bash was ﬁnally running out of steam. Guests started to realize that they either needed to pull out their pajamas and toothbrushes or go home; restaurant staff revved their vacuum cleaners in the background to encourage the latter. Finally, nearly all of the well-wishers at the party had ﬁnished well-wishing me and headed home. 35 Heather Estay “We’re still on for lunch at noon tomorrow, Angie,” Jess reminded me with a hug. ” “Jack and I will drive the minivan home and bring your gifts,” Marie offered with a broad wink.