Silver Fox or Left-Over Turkey?

“Velada, velada, salada, salada” is my latest mantra. I have never eaten as much leaves as I have in the last few months. It doesn’t seem to be working though. I am sure I am not alone, in this non-feeding frenzy to get slimmed down for the velada. Starting to want to be like one of Imelda's Beautification Projects - maganda overnight. One Manila based classmate sent an email to Stateside friends, regarding plans for partying, Boracay or Baguio in October. Included in the suggestions was a line that said something like “those interested in Botox and liposuction, I can also make arrangements for those.” That made my day, I laughed for a long time. I started to wonder what would happen if I mixed Botox, lipo, jet lag, Bora, intense dance practice, and lots of late night partying while in Manila for 10 days in October. I might come back to New York looking like an even more twisted Joan Rivers, que horror! Even my husband had to laugh, and made him wonder what his Manila classmates would offer for their December jubilee – wart removal? penis enlargement? sex change?

One of the last things my mom said when she left last January to go back to Manila was not “Goodbye, see you in October” but “What are you going to do for exercise so you get thin for October?” You gotta love her though. I should be so lucky to look as good as she does at her age. I am already hearing stories about “so and so lost 30 pounds” and “so and so wants to be as thin as Jojo Reyes”. Wish I could say that for myself, I probably already weighed more at birth than Jojo Reyes now. Don't be mad Jojo, it's just inggit talking. Had another great laugh the other day with China’s self-deprecating minutes of the April 10 meeting, and screamed when I got to “white pants” and “silver top.” What about “brown paper bag” so I can cover my face when I manage to squeeze myself into the white pants? And I am positive that a silver top will make me look like a turkey wrapped in Reynolds wrap. Popsie, when is the absolute drop dead date when I must give you measurements for my school uniform? By the way, China, I just had an idea. Can we wear ball pen cartoon drawings on our thighs under our uniform on October 15? I still have nice, perfectly waxed legs, the only "not fat" part of me other than my ears. Might as well show off the good parts.

What is this desire, that we be as thin, and as young-looking, and as fit as we were 25 years ago? Is it to capture lost youth, is it to try and be as gay and carefree as we were back then? Or is it a desire to preserve youth and extend life as long as we can? Are your crows feet a sign of your age, or just prove that you laughed a lot these past years? What about the gray hair? Did you worry a lot, or does it just run in your family? What about the fat and the wide hips? Enjoy your kitchen too much or bear beautiful children or both? I wonder if I will ever learn to see wrinkles as marks of wisdom and not as ravages of time.

They say 40 is the new 30, which makes me 32 again today. Do I really want to be 32 again? At 32 I was childless, and starting to feel frustrated that I would remain childless forever. At 32, I had a tight budget. At 32, I worried about no one but myself. At 32, I was not as wise as I am today. At 32, I did not look ahead and say “I want to live a long life so I can see my grandchildren.” At 32, I did not yet know what I really wanted in life.

So I should be proud to say “42” and shout it from the treetops. Afterall, I’ve spent hundreds of dollars at the Chanel counter and on facials in the last six months, so no one will think I’m 42. What do I take 12 little pills (vitamins, calcium, green tea, fish oil, anti-oxidants, etc. etc etc.) every night for, just so I can deny that I am 42? Huh? When did I get so confused? Must have been right after the epidural.

I decided I just am not going to worry about it anymore. I’m just adding to the furrows in my brow, above my well-tweezed eyebrows. It’s already end of April, and I still have not started the swimming/running/ Pilates regimen I told my mom I would. My life now is Atkins Monday through Friday, and lamon on Saturday and Sunday. I feel like the stupid monkey who climbs up the well two feet during the day, and slips back one foot during the night. I do get to walk/run now and then, but when I start sneezing from the spring pollen, then it’s back to being the couch carbohydrate in front of the tv again.

All I know is I want to see all my old friends, some of whom I have kept in touch with, some of whom I have not seen at all in the last 25 years. Living away for 21 years now, I’ve missed all of the weddings and baptisms, and just lived vicariously through kuwentos, letters, email, photos. Now I want to go home and hug, and scream, and see everyone LIVE, and not via webcam. Who cares how high my cholesterol is, or how much eye cream I shovel at myself. All I know is I loved you when you were the slim, sexy, smooth skinned, noisy, gossipy, naughty, funny, thick and gorgeous haired, scandalous, sweet, sassy, young, wild, innocent, hopeful, friend that you were 25 years or more ago, and no matter what you look like now, I love you still. And I hope you do the same with me, bottle brunette, moisturized, chipped nailed, Bengay-toting-Vicks-sniffing, underwire-bra’d, tabachuy creature that I am now. And I promise to wear whatever costume you decide we should wear. Just remind me to bring my Brooke Shields mask so no one recognizes me.

Having said all that, let me chew on my dry lettuce and sip on my Crystal Light. I still want to be thin in October and back to my high school size or closer to it. Oh God, now I need to do some yoga, I’m starting to feel neurotic again. I saw Tessa A’s pan de sal abs and all it did was make me crave for pan de sal with condensada… Now where is that Pilates ring somewhere in my cluttered, messy house...and if none of it works, how about that Botox and lipo…so pardon me now, Clairol awaits as my roots are showing, I have to finish screaming at the twins for the mess they made in my bedroom, and I have a manicure appointment at 6.