When your looks start to fade, a part of you dies because beauty is power if you know how to use it and when it’s gone you’re diminished. It sounds petty to admit you sometimes get what you want because you’re pretty, but it’s an advantage, a big one! Who wants to give that up? Who wants to watch it happen in the mirror? So what do you do? You have a couple of choices:

-The “Fuck It” option whereby you let your looks go and you spend your time, money and energy on something else. This option allows you to eat what you want, when you want it. (Within reason. Too many carbs and you’ll end up with a slew of maladies, spending all your time in doctor’s offices and at the pharmacy filling prescriptions.) If you choose this option, you must buy your clothes at Macy’s-from the Alfred Dunner…

My lovely mother, Trudy.

I turned into my mother yesterday. It’s good because Mom was fun, neurotic and beautiful until the day she died. It’s bad because at the age of 55, I became . . . gasp . . . a youthful senior citizen. It’s been looming for awhile, this thing called old age:  worsening eyesight, wrinkles, diminishing physical ability. But yesterday, my intermittent knee pain hit with a vengeance while it was raining. Dear God, I’ve gotten to the point where I can predict the weather with my arthritic knees. I remember my mother talking about rain as she flexed stubby gnarled fingers. I would listen half-heartedly, mildly amused, a little grossed out. And now, sadly, it’s me.

There are a lot of awful, yet fairly universal, things that happen as you age. Since doctor’s don’t hand out pamphlets on what to expect, although they should – Dip…