As a young teenager, I went camping with Kim at Loon Lake in Oregon. Laying out on the sandy beach I remember turning to teenage Kim and saying, "shoot me if I ever look like that", pointing at a woman crossing the beach who was extremely dimpled on the back of her upper legs.

My days are numbered.

With the rate I'm gaining cellulite, I can only hope Kim has developed a rabid anti-gun ethic in the past twenty-three years.

I also remember Kim's mom saying, "Enjoy it now, girls, this is the best your body is ever going to look." What?! That was horrifying! I did not have a great body in high school. For some reason I just thought it would be better when I was grown up. You know, at twenty-two, or something.

Maybe I thought I'd have more control over my choices then - be able to join a health club, buy my own food. Or was I counting on passing through a magic veil at twenty and becoming the fully realized adult I'd imagined?

I'd been looking forward to my grown up body, just biding my time in this flabby, un-toned thing I had to walk around in in the meantime.

Ah, the innocence of youth.

So here I am, getting ready to go on an anniversary trip to sandy shores, looking at myself from behind in the mirror, hoping that no teenage girls use me as an example of "what not to become" while I'm there.

La.