weights and measures

January is a time of new beginings and resolutions for most around the world and I'm no exception to this yearly ritual of a promise-to-turn-over-newleaf syndrome. As far as i can remember most of my resolutions revolve around food- I swear I'll measure what I eat and will for sure reduce my ever increasing reading on the scale. This year has been no different but has been exacerbated by the much anticipated 25 year college reunion which i just came back from. Fair or Foul the pressure is on us women to still look like the dewy selves we were at 20,keep the shame(!) waistlines and have black tresses cascade down our backs. so imagine what happens after 25 years- many batchmates I did not recognise but a greater many refused to recognise me. Back handed compliments flowed fast and furios accompanied by wonderment to "what happened to you"? Err..2 kids, surviving in a man's workplace, a dog and a husband all necessarily not in that order but pray do tell- "what is your excuse Mr. Pot Belly" ? Every meal and every drink was looked at with a jaundiced eye and yes many an admonition of "you don't need it". Excuse me, but who died and made you my dad? So I came back all chastened and determined to show em all that there might still be the the old girl of yore lurking under all those love handles. And the next reunion is 5 years away so I have plenty of time to get back. I've heard that 50 is now the new 35, so as I still have a few years to be 35 lookout all you gorgeous yummy mummies I'm hitting the trail with a vengence. After tomorrow and then Friday and maybe after Saturday's parties are done with. For tomorow is another day!