Seriously... I'm Kidding

someone said we were only seven, we were furious. We probably even cried about it. Can you imagine doing that now as an adult? “This is Marsha. She’s forty-two.” “Forty-two and a half! You always forget the half! I’m practically forty-two and three-quarters!” I don’t know at what age people stop wanting to be older. People seem to enjoy their twenties and thirties. It must be around forty, when you’re “over the hill.” I don’t even know what that means and why it’s a bad thing. When I go hiking and I get over the hill, that means I’m past the hard part and there’s a snack in my future. That’s a good thing as far as I’m concerned.
    People seem to be shy about their age through their fifties and sixties, but then once they hit seventy or eighty, they start telling people again because it’s such a huge victory to have made it that far. No one gets to one hundred and tells people they’re only ninety-five. So I don’t know why anyone has to lie about those middle years. We should celebrate every year that we made it through and every year that we’re happier and healthier. Because honestly, that’s the best-case scenario. And the bottom line is we are who we are—we look a certain way, we talk a certain way, we walk a certain way. I strut because I’m a supermodel, and sometimes I gallop for fun. When we learn to accept that, other people learn to accept us. So be who you really are. Embrace who you are. Literally. Hug yourself. Accept who you are. Unless you’re a serial killer.
    I know it seems easy and breezy for me to say, but trust me—it’s okay to be you. If you had called me fifteen years ago and told me I was going to end up being a CoverGirl, I would have said, “No way” and “How’d you get this number?” But look at me now. I’m totally myself and I’m an internationally known, widely sought-after supermodel. I even went to Paris one time.

How to Be a Supermodel

    S ince I am a CoverGirl, I thought if any of you are interested in learning a little bit about modeling I could offer you some tips. I’ve sashayed down plenty of catwalks in my day—well, one. But I know what it takes to make an impression. So here are some suggestions, as long as you are willing to be fierce.

One: The Look

    Always look like you’re angry at the universe for making you too pretty.

Two: The Walk

    Trot. Aggressively, like you’re a horse that’s trying to avoid puddles.

Three: The Squint

    Squint like someone is bouncing sunlight off their watch and directly into your eyes.

Four: The Pout

    Get those lips out there. Purse your lips like you’re trying to sip out of a straw that someone keeps moving away from you.

Five: The Pose

    Be mysterious. Always pose with one hand in your pocket as if to say, “I’m so mysterious, this hand in my pocket could be a hook hand. You don’t know.”

Six: The Breeze

    Carry a giant oscillating fan with you at all times. No exceptions.
    Now put it all together. Trot! Squint! Get the straw! Who’s a pretty girl? You are. Keep trotting!

Stuff

    I don’t like clutter. I firmly believe that there is a place for everything and everything should be in its place. And I know there’s a name for people like me: neat.
    It is astounding to me how much stuff we all have. Our closets are full of stuff. Our drawers are full of stuff. Our stuff is piled on top of other stuff. And the older we get the more stuff we have because over the years we buy more and more stuff and we never want to let go of anything. Nowadays people are a little more aware of how much stuff they have because there’s a bit of a social stigma if you have too much stuff. There’s even a name for the people who have the most stuff. They’re called hoarders. Back in the day they were just called grandmothers.
    If you want to clean out your house and get rid of stuff, you can always do a good spring cleaning every year. Or you can do what I do. Move. I move a lot. I’ve moved about ten times over the past fifteen years. I don’t move for the sole purpose of getting rid of stuff. I’m not crazy. I also move so that I never have to wash any windows. “Is that a smudge? Time to pack it up. Let’s go.”
    When you’re packing up a house, you’re forced to decide what you really need versus what you can get rid of. You might have been holding on to cases and cases of empty glass jars, but once you have to pack them up and move them, you realize maybe you’re not going