I used to belong to the same club as Diane Keaton and Nora Ephron. No…It’s not a club for celebrities. The club I was in is the We-Don’t-Like-Our-Necks Club, a group for women over 50 years of age. And I’ve learned the hard way that although we were in the same club, we handled our dislikeable necks in different ways.

I first discovered that my neck wasn’t my best feature when I weighed more than 300 pounds. The reason for this discovery was because I couldn’t find my neck then. It was lost somewhere between my rotund upper torso and my over-abundant jowls.

Continue reading "Chicken Or Turkey…Both Are Foul!" »

Posted by Sandra Dalka-Prysby at 03:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Ladies, for those of you who don't know it yet, menopause comes with certain discomforts, for example, crotch itch.

Last week, I had a bad case of this malady. It wasn't a yeast infection. Not even close. I wanted to jump out a window, pull my hair out. You get the picture. I tried Vaginol. It didn't do a thing. I bought a product called Gynecort Maximum Strength and applied it liberally. This cortisone in it had me screaming in pain so bad I had to lie flat gasping for breath.

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Posted by Lady Marmalade at 03:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Everybody drinks at college! Well, maybe not everybody, but most of the people I knew did. I was in a sorority. Sorority girls go to fraternity parties. Drinks flow at fraternity parties.

One April night in 2004—I was a college senior—I went with a group of my sisters to a big frat party. I drank an unknown number of drinks. By 2 a.m. I was bored and tired and I wanted to go home. None of my sorority sisters wanted to leave the party so I decided I would walk the two blocks home by myself. Bad move. Less than a block from my house, I was mugged. I was pushed down and my purse was stolen.

Continue reading "One Night: One Stupid Decision" »

Posted by Emily Prysby at 09:40 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Shortly after my 50th birthday, it arrived! Like others before me—some still recovering from their big 5-0 celebrations—I got the invitation to join the AARP. For you youngsters, AARP stands for American Association of Retired Persons. Boy…did I feel old when this envelope arrived! I already knew that I had entered middle age, but, really, was I supposed to retire from life now? Was I really that old?

After a few days of mild depression, I threw out the AARP application and proceeded with my busy life. I had three children—ages 11, 13 and 15—to raise to adulthood. This would take me another 10 years or so. I didn’t have time to give in to any feelings of old age. Besides, I was on the verge of publishing my first book, by Doubleday, no less. I had to get ready for my television appearances and book signings. I was hardly a “retired” person.

Continue reading "And I Thought 50 Was Bad!" »

Posted by Sandra Dalka-Prysby at 09:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)