On the prowl...

According to the extensive research I have done on the topic, a woman isn't considered a 'cougar' until she is over 40, at which point the 'cougar math' goes as follows: take your age, divide it by 2 and add 7. The result is the maximum age of your 'prey'. So, if you just turned 40, and you're dating someone 27 or younger, you are officially a coug. I like this consensus. It means I've got quite a few years before I need to start shopping for leopard print body suits and satin bath robes. Not that I won't relish every second when I do get there. I am all about living in the moment and enjoying what you have. You couldn't pay me to be 18 again, especially when I remember how freaking naive I was. I work with a lot of teenagers at the restaurant and they are so precious in their stupidity. And so adorable... one of the bus boys, who can't be more than 17, looks like a young John Cusack. I would tell him, but I'm guessing his response would be a blank stare at best. (Sidenote: if you want to really freak yourself out, find an old picture of yourself from high school and take a good look. I found my senior picture the other day and I literally look like an infant.) Currently, I'm told I am a gal who's 'in her prime'. This pleases me. I plan to soak up and enjoy every minute of my prime and when I'm past it, I will embrace cougardom with equal enthusiasm. I must say, what I am really looking forward to is when I'm in my 60's. I plan on having a short, sassy hair do' and a dresser full of brightly colored pant- suits and sequined, kitty-cat sweatshirts. I will take power walks and join league bowling. I will also have a gentleman friend to go on cruises with and when I tire of his company, I will take a much younger lover. It is going to be fantastic.