I wanted to shake up my life and go sailing (or learn on the job, so-to-speak) so headed to Florida to crew on a catamaran. This is about how it went or, rather, didn't - and my life since. Hopefully it will lead to a catamaran on the clear aqua blue waters of the Caribbean Sea, watching the sunset, a coconut rum and coke in hand. You must START AT THE BEGINNING of the blog, April 2009, to get the whole story...

Saturday, May 19, 2012

REFUSING TO GROW OLD GRACEFULLY

I am going to tell you a secret.  I USE BOTOX.  Yep I do.  And I love it.

I haven't scowled for two years now.  And that is saying something.

I have the sort of face that falls into a scowl when I am deep in thought, concentrating, or not thinking at all. My face in repose is a scowl.  This is not a good thing. It leads people to believing I'm a miserable person. It intimidates some and pisses off others.  When my daughter was little she'd ask me if I was having a bad day when I wasn't and back then I never realized it was because I was scowling almost all of the time.  I didn't realize it until the day it almost lead to me getting fired from a show.  That's when I decided that botox was necessary.   For job security.

So I tell myself that the main reason I get botox is because I don't want people to think I am angry when I am not.  But the side benefit of having the vertical crease between my brows, which was getting deeper every day, virtually disappear and having no horizontal lines in my forehead and probably never will is pretty sweet I have to say.  And while I am at it, I also get a couple of shots under my jawbone on either side of my chin that pulls the muscles back slightly to minimize the creases that run down either side of my mouth. I look much more refreshed and relaxed.

It's fabulous and worth every penny.

Now if I could just find a way to get rid of the creases on my chest from lying on my side at night.  And the horrid crepe papery skin that has suddenly made an appearance in the same area.  That would be the same crepe-y look that I noted, with some shock, on my dear aunty one day about ten years back thinking how terribly unattractive it was.  And now I have it.   If there's any remedy for it other than going under the knife, I'm all ears.  There's a comment section below;  I told you my secret, now you tell me yours if you have one that works.



Recently one of my daughters told me that I needed to stop dying my hair and 'grow old gracefully'.  I unsuccessfully tried to scowl at her while asking her if she was out of her mind.   Why would I want to look as old and tired out as I feel most of the time?  Because if I let my hair go natural it would be half mousy brown and half silvery grey and that is not a youthful look.  Forget youthful, it's not even a middle-aged look.  It's bad enough that the greys are coming in with the same shape and density as a strand of brillo pad and no amount of dye or bleach can fix that.  NO!!!  I will do all I can to hang onto some semblance of beauty for as long as I can and if that means I have to dye my hair and pluck out the really bad brillo pad ones for the rest of my livelong days, then so be it.

And I will continue to get botox injections until I die.
All photographs are mine and not to be copied without express permission from me (click on them to see the large version).
Some names have been changed to protect my butt.



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