I Felt So Young--Until Today

Madonna is turning fifty.

Do you know what that means? It means that I'm old.

Officially, not young.

How could she do this to me? Madonna, of all people! Instead of donning pointy metallic boobs and launching a world tour, she is vacuuming on You Tube. What's next? Cover girl for A.A.R.P?

No, we are not the same age. That's not the point. Every time Madonna has a birthday, so do I.
We are marching down the assisted living facility path together. Yes, she looks great. So what? She is still F-I-F-T-Y. Why can't she lie, like the rest of Hollywood?
Madonna is not the only one who has let me down recently. Brett Michael's admitted he has hair extensions. As if that wasn't obvious! Was it necessary to shatter my youthful fantasy? Should I expect to see him pimping Viagra next? Gawd.

Don't get me started on the Sex And The City "girls". I've seen the clips from the upcoming movie. These are no longer girls. Old cougars is more like it. I love them. I swear I do, but really now.

I am now faced with my own mortality. What to do? Grow old gracefully, or fight like a UFC Champion every step of the way? There is really no choice to be made.
I'm fighting.
Sign me up for a lifetime membership at the nearest facial rejuvenation center.
Fill all the lines in my face with plastic. Botox me until my lips won't move. Slather me in lamb placenta. Zap the cellulite off my ass. Laser my eyeballs. I want it all.

A gym membership? Umm...Not yet.
There's plenty of time for that!

Out-T.
image: http://www.people.com/people/