We Interrupt this blog for a rant

A rant on aging. Yes, I have it, you have it, we all have it. And despite the best efforts of Pounce De Leon, the best plastic surgeons that Beverly Hills has to offer, and of course all the vitamin and fitness gurus it will find you too. You can’t ignor it, okay you can, but I can’t – age is hitting me and in the worst possible place… my mirror.

You laugh, ergo you are young, but you wait, you will find hair growing where it never has, not growing where it was once abundant. And then horror upon horror, it is now gray.

I have hair growing where no woman wants hair to grow - on my chin. Now not enough to be employed by a traveling side show, but it’s there paired with an every lovely set of eyebrows that is becoming unruly. And yes I pluck – my chin, my brows – it’s become quite a time consuming task. And when it’s not consuming my time, it’s consuming my thoughts. Because folks, not only and I growing hair on my chin, but its white. Now scientist will tell you white is a lack of color – there must be something to that because I can feel them when I rub my finger over my chin, but I can’t see them.

Stop it, I see just fine, as long as I have on a pair of 250 readers and a magnifying mirror. Seriously, I can see every thing going down the road as long as it is ten inches away from my nose (which is long and adds to the problem.) So now I have invisible white hairs growing from my chin that I can’t find until I’m driving down the road and they’ve caught themselves in the wire wrap of my pendant.

“Honestly officer, I didn’t see the car passing me on the left because I got the hair on my chin caught and I couldn’t turn my head as I was changing lanes.”

I don’t have to shave my legs or toes either, because I can’t see any hair (and folks that distance is 10 inches away from my nose). But apparently Ducky can’t seen them either, because he’s not bitching as he strokes my downy soft legs.

To add insult to injured ego my once firm and bouncy breast are now puff soft and saggy beyond repair. I want a bra that is sexy. You go find an affordable, sexy bra in a size 36 G or bigger. I’m not that big bosomed, but confound it I want my boobs to stay in my cups.
Do they? Not on your life. And where men once prayed for one to pop out, now they are praying I’ll put them back in. I would just like them to be perky and firm, instead of four inches below my elbows.

This is just more fodder (solid fodder at that) in the arguement that God is male, a woman wouldn't do this to another woman (well there was that one Buffy episode, but that was just TV) So be forewarned, this too will happen to you. My tips for a healthier middle aged ego – 1) Get the breast reduction now. 2) Get electrolysis while you can still see you chin hairs. And most important 3) find men who are blind so they don’t notice.

Sith,
Cele