THE BLOG

Still WORKING It!

03/16/2015 03:26 pm ET | Updated May 16, 2015

Last night was well... amazing. It was Saturday night and M and I were out on the town. I had outdone myself with my black boots (sort of Captain Jack Sparrow looking but on sale at Nordstrom Rack!) skinny jeans, and a long clingy top, Spanx on bottom, Spanx on top and BAM, pure magic.

As M and I cruised restaurant row, people from the bars and restaurants had overflowed onto the street. I could not go more than a couple of feet without men gaping at me. I mean mouth open gaping. Some of them were mid-bite their cheesy piece of Fortunato's pizza and still turned all the way around to watch me walk by.

Oh my god, and here all this time (well the last year or two) I had been worrying about backfat? Ridiculous! Obviously men love a little som'n som'n to grab onto. How much had I spent SO FAR, on eyebrow gels, pencils and powders? Crazy! Obviously men love that look of surprise that is now permanently etched on my face!

And then, one young, handsome guy actually begins to make his way over to me. And I'm like "Dude, AWKWARD!" I mean M is standing right here! And he walks over to me and I'm thinking "Oh wow, I hope M doesn't get too worked up, I mean I will just say, "Thank you so much, but I'm actually with somebody," (Which is what the first and ONLY guy I ever approached in a bar said to me back in the day. Still smarts.)

He makes his way towards me and I inwardly lick my teeth because before leaving home I ate yogurt with Chia seeds, and here he comes and then... there he goes. And then it hits me, I totally forgot! My 23-year-old, blonde, blue-eyed daughter is walking with us, Instagramming on her phone, totally oblivious to the havoc she is wreaking.

He pushes past me and makes a beeline for her, where a quick conversation ensues before she sends him on his way. "I'm hanging out with my mom tonight," she says. And he sort of looked over at me and waved at me and yelled as if I was deaf, "Hi! I'm just talking with your sister for a minute!" and then I heard him say something like, "Oh aren't you nice? Call me after you get her settled in for the night and we'll go listen to some jazz."

And two totally different feelings washed over me, 1. Pride for my beautiful daughter who is oblivious to her youth and beauty and 2. Pain as my upper Spanx rolled up under my boobs and I realized, I am invisible.

And that's okay because I had my day in the sun and now I have two daughters whose time it is to shine. And I love watching them and there are times I can't believe I made them because they are turning into beautiful women, that I love with all my heart.

It's just that, this experience comes at the end of a week where I started a new job -- I mean I think it's a job -- it's either a job or a week long play date as all of my co-workers have to remove their retainers before they eat. One girl showed up and said, "Hope you guys don't mind, I'm working in my pajamas today," and I'm thinking AWESOME! Perhaps I will come in my "MORNING SUNSHINE" T-shirt and sleep shorts tomorrow. In fact, Wednesday my editor announced it was his birthday, "I'm a quarter century old today." Okay, so I assumed we were carpooling to Chucky Cheese at lunch time.

But that didn't happen because nobody eats lunch. Apparently no one else looks at the clock every ten minutes and thinks "Okay at 10:00 I will eat my hard boiled egg, and then at 12:00 my roasted beet salad from Trader Joe's and finish the day up at 3:00 with my chocolate coconut KIND bar. That should hold me." Quarter century old bodies apparently can live on RedBull and Trail mix.

No one else heaves themselves off the communal "Pit Couch" grunting like a water buffalo while supporting their back with their hands, no one else is taking 10,000 mgs of Vitamin D with Calcium at lunchtime and no one else is receiving text messages from their daughter saying "Dropping off my laundry! Can I have it by tomorrow?" That's because no one else is OLD!

I am now officially the old lady in the room. Ugh! But in a way, I'm okay with it because, DUDE, I am holding my own. I go to work, I write my stories, I even know how to photoshop images and stuff now! I eat my egg and my salad -- at the end of the day I heave myself off the pit couch and drive home. I come home to a loving partner and a cat who pretends he doesn't know we exist but crawls up on our bed as soon as we fall asleep.

Morning comes and I get ready to do it all again. Stories already filling my head, that will later take shape on the page. I pack up my egg, my salad my Kind bar. Grab my robe, shove my feet into slippers and off I go! Just another day at the office.