I’m turning into a soccer mom.Duh, I know I don’t have any kids, but that is so not the point. Instead of chauffeuring a bunch of rug rats around to friends’ houses and after-school activities, I’m off to hot yoga and circuit training and various lunch dates and movies and readings and talks on this or that. My schedule is so busy I need one of those chalkboards in my entryway like they have in the Pottery Barn catalogs just to remember what day it is. Oh yeah, I live in a tiny condo and don’t have an entryway, but you get the idea. The only other thing I’m missing is the silver BMW X5. Of course I have a job, silly. But let’s face it, the position of “freelance writer” is taken about as seriously as “stay-at-home mom” (No offense to those types. My mom worked full time and I was raised by a nanny. I wouldn’t know anything about that whole deal.)When I tell people I’m a writer, invariably their next question is, “How do you make money then?” I’m always tempted to come back with something really obnoxious like, “Oh, I sell crack in Denver on weekends,” or “I work as a stripper in Vegas during the offseason.” Whatever! Stop being so nosey. I don’t know if it has to do with my “flexible” work schedule or what, but the longer I live in Aspen, the more I find my life is filled with these little activities that require I drive the gantlet from town to the ABC like 50 times a day. And so it occurred to me that I am a Wanna-Be Soccer Mom (WBSM, also short for Wanna Be Someday Married).Yesterday was the perfect example. For some godforsaken reason, I woke up at 6 a.m. which meant I was bored stiff by 9 since no e-mails were coming in yet (the “freelance” in my job title means I am free to write my friends all the livelong day. Truth be known, I hit the “Send and Receive” button every 30 seconds and live for that cute little sound my Mac makes when an e-mail comes in). So it was time for my first daily activity: taking Psycho Paws for a run. Having a crazy, big dog is the perfect excuse for my own psychotic behavior, which means running every day no matter what the weather is doing. I have turned into one of those obsessive/compulsive workout chicks, which is a prerequisite for the WBSM. The reason is twofold: I exercise because I’m sans boyfriend (sexually frustrated) and I want my body to look good just in case I do get laid.After my run, I had a whole 45 minutes to “work” until my noon lunch meeting with a nonprofit that has offered me a volunteer position. My first reaction (at the risk of offending the oh-so-huge population of do-gooders in Aspen) was, “I’m not rich enough to volunteer! I have to work for a living!” Then I realized I do more procrastinating than working, so I might as well consider doing something for someone beside myself. A friend of mine who is Mr. Working For The Cause Man threw me a real curve ball when he said, “Maybe you should think about giving something back to the world.” Okaaaay, fine! God!So I go to lunch with an open mind and the next thing I know I’m on a steering committee, which gives me a sense of purpose and kind of does make me feel good inside. I always said if it feels good do it, so I guess there’s a reason for the whole giving-to-charity thing after all.Staying in cahoots with the WBSM Exercise Plan, I don’t eat lunch because I’m off to Bernadette’s circuit training class at Jean Robert’s Gym afterward (they so deserve the shameless plug for transforming me from “little porker” to just “little”). Anyone who has participated in this class knows the vomit potential of an hourlong abs training session that integrates pain with hard breathing. It’s a bitch, but who cares when your stomach is bikini ready in March? So these nonprofit married women at lunch are looking at me like, “You are such the psycho workout diet girl,” when I order a latte and nothing else, but I don’t care for the aforementioned reasons.After circuit training, it’s back to the ABC for one of my real jobs, writing this column. But I have less than two hours because at 4:45, I need to be back in town for my eyebrow wax and eyelash tint at the Cos Bar. No way are you going to find a WBSM wandering the streets of Aspen with bushy eyebrows. Do you have any idea what a correctly shaped brow will do to open those eyes? (Botox is not part of the program until you hit 40.)If there’s still time left in the day (and there usually is), another optional WBSM activity is trying on clothes just to see how small of a size you can fit into. I prefer stores that are within close proximity to a coffee shop (in case you weren’t paying attention earlier, caffeine is a great meal replacement), which makes D & E one of my favorites.So there I was, standing in front of the mirror on top of a pile of clothes I had no intention of buying (my apologies to the retail staff), admiring myself in one of those ridiculously obscene outfits (up-to-here mini skirt and strapless tank) that I wouldn’t even think of wearing east of San Diego. And I realized, even though I’ve waited my whole life to be a size 4, there’s got to be more.The Princess is going to Costa Rica for two whole weeks at the end of April and can’t wait to be somewhere she doesn’t have to wear socks. E-mail the Princess at email@example.com
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