Nora Ephron wrote a collection of essays and entitled them "I feel bad about my neck". After reading the essay which corresponded with the title, I was spurred to do a self examination of my own neck. I actually feel good about my neck...it's quite lovely in fact. It's everything south that gives me pause.
Let's begin with my breasts. Yes, I know we don't use that word in polite company but I know I am among friends here. In a perfect world, I would be a cup size larger with ample cleavage ---not so much that I stop traffic but a few head turns on a regular basis would be nice. Moving right along, there's the abdomen----the core of my problems (core---get it??). My belly is the bane of my existence----I am tired of being shaped like an inverted light bulb. And my thighs run a distant second in problematic body parts.
Speaking of running, the other day I was with my 12 year old nephew (great nephew actually). He challenged me to see who could make it to the car first. Knowing I am the most out of shape I have ever been in my life should have made me promptly respectfully decline the invitation, but pride (or stupidity) caused me to take the bait. As I ran, I noticed that I was being cheered on with a very quiet but noticeable applause. "Gee, that's nice" I thought, as I kept running. I figured it was someone with an adolescent twerp in their own family that always wanted to show them up. I didn't stop to look, though, because I didn't want to lose any ground. I make it to the car (almost simultaneous with my nephew, thank you very much). I noticed that the applause I was hearing stopped immediately when I stopped moving, as if it were in sync with my body. I run a couple of more car lengths to test a theory I was formulating in my mind. Sure enough, I move----applause. I stop, applause stops. What I thought was a kindred spirit sympathizing with me was actually my belly flopping up and down and my thighs slapping together side by side! OMG---this is what life has come to---I have unwittingly become my own cheering squad.
So, I repeat: I don't feel bad about my neck, but the things below it give me pause.