Welcome back Edie, and I'm still laughing at the pictures that flash in your mind as one reads this, and they aren't pretty either!!! Vicki NW Iowa ----- Original Message ----- From: "Rob and Edie McArthur" <robmc@our.net.au> To: <ARMSTRONG-L@rootsweb.com> Sent: Thursday, November 21, 2002 3:30 PM Subject: [ARMSTRONG-L] Class Reunion > Hi everyone, > > I have decided to come back on this friendly list, as I have heard from Marilyn and Diana in recent times and that was really nice. I only have Armstrong ties through a friend and my brothers girlfriend, but always on the lookout for anything Armstrong. > > Something came into another of my lines this morning and the emailer was really bawled out. It wasn't appropiate for a purely genealogical list, but it gave me a laugh as I think we all try to make ourselves look as we were when we go to a school or other reunion, so I could identify with this lady. Maybe some one else can too. > Edie > > CLASS REUNION > I had prepared for it like any intelligent woman would. I went on a starvation diet the day before,knowing that all the extra weight would just melt off in 24-hours, leaving me with my sleek, trim,high-school-girl body. The last many years of > careful cellulite collection would just be gone with a snap of a finger. I knew if I didn't eat a morselon Friday, that I could probably fit into my senior formal on Saturday. Trotting up to the attic, I pulled ! ;the gown out of the garment bag, carried it lovingly downstairs, ran my hand over the fabric,and hung it on the door. I stripped naked, looked in the mirror, sighed, and thought, "Well, okay, maybe if I shift it all to the back..." > bodies never have pockets where you need them.Bravely, I took the gown off the hanger, unzipped the shimmering dress and stepped gingerly into it. I struggled, twisted, turned, and pulled and I got the formal all the way up to my knees...before the zipper gave out. I was disappointed. I wanted to wear that dress with those silver platform sandals again and dance the night away. > Okay, one setback was not going to spoil my mood for this affair. No way! Rolling the dress into a ball and tossing it into the corner, I turned to Plan B the black velvet caftan. I gathered up all the goodies that I had purchased at the drugstore,the scented shower gel; the body building and highlighting shampoo & conditioner, and the split-end killer and shine enhancer. Soon my hair would look like that girl's in the Pantene ads. Then > the makeup -- the under eye "ain't ! no lines here" firming cream, the all-day face-lifting gravity-fighting moisturizer with wrinkle filler spackle; the all day "kiss me till my lips bleed, and see if this gloss will come off" lipstick, the bronzing face powder for that special glow... But first, the roll-on facial hair remover. I could feel > the wrinkles shuddering in fear. OK -time to get ready...I jumped into the steaming shower, soaped,lathered, rinsed, shaved, tweezed, buffed, scrubbed, and scoured my body to a tingling pink. I plastered my freshly scrubbed face with anti-wrinkle, > gravity fighting, "your face will look like a baby's butt" face cream. I set my hair on the hot rollers. I felt wonderful. Ready to take on the world. Or in this instance, my underwear. With the towel firmly wrapped around my glistening body, I pulled out the black lace, tummy-tucking, cellulite-pushing, ham hock-rounding girdle, and the matching "lifting those bosoms like they're filled with helium" bra. I greased my body with the scented body lotion and began the plunge. I pulled, stretched, tugged, hiked, folded, tucked, twisted, > shimmied, hopped, pushed, wiggled, snapped, shook, caterpillar crawled, and kicked. Sweat poured off ! my forehead but I was done. And it didn't look bad. So I rested. A well deserved rest, too. The girdle was on my body. Bounce a quarter off my behind? It was tighter than a trampoline. Can you say, "Rubber baby buggy bumper butt?"Okay, so I had to take baby steps, and walk sideways, and I couldn't move from my butt cheeks to my knees. But, I was firm! Oh no...I had to go to the bathroom. And there wasn't a snap crotch. From now on, undies gotta have a snap crotch. I was ready to rip it open and re-stitch the crotch with Velcro, but the pain factor from past experiments was still fresh in my mind. I quickly side stepped to the bathroom. An hour later, I had answered nature's call and repeated the struggle into the girdle. I was ready for the bra and remembered what the sales lady said to do. I could see her glossed lips mouthing, "Do not fasten the bra in the front! > , and twist it around.Put the bra on the way it should be worn--straps over the shoulders. Then bend over and gently place both breasts inside the cups." Easy > if you have four hands. But, with confidence, I put my arms into the holsters, bent over and pulled the bra down...but the boobs weren't cooperating. I'd no sooner tuck one in a cup, and while placing the other, the first would slip out. I needed a strategy. I bounced up and down a few times, tried > to dribble them in with short bunny hops, but that didn't work. So, while I bent over, I began rocking gently back and forth on my heels and toes and I set 'em to swinging. Finally, on the fourth swing, pause, and lift, I captured the gliding glands. Quickly fastening the back of the bra, I stood up for examination. Back straight, slightly arched, I turned and > faced the mirror, turning front, and then sideways. I smiled, "Yes, Houston, we have lift up!" My breasts were high, firm and there was cleavage! I > was happy until I tried to look down. I had a chin rest and I couldn't see my feet. I still had to put on my pantyhose, and shoes. Oh...why did I buy heels > with buckles? Then I had to go to the bathroom again. I put on my sweats, fixed myself a drink, ordered pizza, and skipped the reunion. > IF THIS DID NOT GIVE YOU A GOOD LAUGH - YOU'RE > TOO YOUNG! > > >