Susan Lucci and Me

Recently, while spending several hours in a hospital waiting room and having sped through the one book I’d brought, I furtively gathered as many germ-infested magazines I could before all the other bored and anxious inhabitants of the freezing, ‘We’re not even going to bother putting art on the wall here’ room could take the booty themselves.

All of those coveted publications, by the way, are ones I wouldn’t pay a dime for in an airport shop.  No matter. It was like that stack of slick covered papers were a pile of Snickers bars and I didn’t know any better than to ingest the whole lot. The only offering I didn’t read was Fishing in Streams (or something).  I would have succumbed to that eventually but the buzzer went off for me to meet with the ten year-old surgeon who, after jogging two and a half miles in the snow to make it to work that morning by seven (that part is true), successfully performed the required operation on my spouse.

My husband was fine, and I became educated about all kinds of things that morning as a result of my intensive reading, one of which was Susan Lucci.

Susan Lucci, as you may know, was the star of All My Children for seven centuries. I am not exaggerating – she is seventy-one and I’m pretty sure her birth was her debut performance on the show.  I never watched it; my soap opera days during college were devoted to Days of Our Lives, where, I noted the other day when I was channel surfing at three o’clock in the afternoon, the very same actors are on the show and they look exactly like they did fifty years ago. I was tempted to record the current version but I honestly don’t have time to fit in all the other necessary television shows I must watch as it is.

The gist of the article (photos included) had to do with the fact that Lucci can showcase a bikini like a twenty year old. There was evidence on Instagram – she looked fabulous. Even when I was twenty, I couldn’t do justice to a bikini. (I have photos to prove that.)

Apparently the reason Lucci looks so fantastic has to do with her diet (low-carb) and practicing Pilates for twenty years. She also doesn’t drink outside of ONE glass of champagne occasionally.  She also admits to using Botox. Apparently her dermatologist has the right touch.

Well, Susan, as a woman two years your junior, I’d like to offer you an alternative reality – just for fun.  If you follow this, you can look like me in six months. Actually, it’s pretty clear if you follow my regime, you can look like me in a mere SIX DAYS.  Here’s what you do:

  1. Eat plenty of carbs. This, in case you’re not familiar with the diet, can guarantee automatic cellulite all over your body. If you spend a lifetime doing this as I have, you too could be an Instagram sensation, but not in the way you’re familiar.
  2. Do Pilates three times (total). That’s the number of Pilates sessions I endured before I was forced to quit.The primary reason (beyond boredom) was that I kept falling off that big ball. None of it was fun, but I suppose you, Susan, don’t have much of a sense of fun if you think one glass of champagne a few times a year is a good time.
  3. Never drink champagne. Instead, try a glass of wine (or two) every night. And I mean every night. No skipping, Susan – you won’t get the right results otherwise.

I feel a great kinship with you, Famous Susan Lucci, what with being practically the same age. It’s not your fault you’re a bit older and look sixty years younger than I. But you can right that wrong.

I offer you this opportunity because I think you’d be a superb candidate for a great follow up story in Bazaar if you follow my specific instructions. It would be like a reverse Incredible Hulk transformation. You, the perfect, disciplined and pure version of a woman in her 70’s, transforming into your counterpart in the real world; me.

And maybe some day, another bored woman will be in a hospital waiting room and be inspired by your journey.

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