Call Me Madonna

I don't care...


Madonna ROCKED the Super Bowl Half-Time show. 


Note to self:
Sing in gospel choir


SING 
SWAY 
CLAP






As soon as she dropped out of sight into a cloud of smoke, Facebook lit up with comments. 

I had to check because I knew they were coming...


Lip-synching? Really, come on, Madonna.


She is over the top. OLDER but still hot.


Dear Universe: Please let me grow old gracefully. 


Not bad for a woman her age.


Botox is not my friend.


Apparently, women of a certain age should not be cavorting with very ripped men dressed like gladiators. 


Seems like a perfectly healthy activity to me. heart healthy


oh, critics are a dime a dozen


Two weeks ago, Claire and I were watching the red carpet at the Golden Globes. The dresses, the dresses.


Rather than talk about the actors' body of work, the commentators kept asking about the womens' bodies.


Do tell? How do you get a body like that?


I stay active, but really I prefer to talk about my work.


No, really, you look amazing. Weights? Pilates? And turn around so we can see your...


These days, a size twelve is considered PLUS. Really?
Forty (or is it thirty now?) means hot is out.


Learning to love my own face in the mirror 


is one of the tag-lines of this blog. Wonder where that came from?


If only I'd jump on the billion dollar band-wagon of defying age lines and wrinkles, I DEFY YOU, CROW'S FEET, and hired a personal air-brush artist to tend to me before setting foot out the door...maybe I'd look better for a woman my age? 


This isn't new stuff. It's been around for eons. Men get better looking as they age. Women, we're screwed/


But I defy that...or something like that. 


I look and feel better now than when I was twenty. And dammit, call me Madonna, but I am getting myself a pair of thigh high black boots because honestly, I've always wanted them. 


And, I've got my mother's gams. so I've been told... 


gams = great legs


But it doesn't matter. 
great gams, or not
dance
sing
thigh high boots
flats
shake your booty
dance the polka...


Be hot, or not. 


You're only as hot as you  feel?


even if every magazine in the check-out line tells us we're not unless we do 


X Y Z 


and what is hot? and maybe you could care less


If I hear someone say, she looks good for her age, one more time, I'm gonna pop them. Right in the nose. And if it's a guy with his belly hanging over his belt, I'll sock him in his doughy gut. hard.


A friend wrote,


I wanna be Madonna when I grow up!


Me too. 


At least for half-time.


~ thus ends my Monday morning rant.