Live your life in such a way that when your feet hit the floor in the morning, Satan shudders and says "Oh shit, she's awake."

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Gobbler Gobbler Gobbler...Neck...

I’ve been reminded by this glorious Thanksgiving season, that turkey gobbler neck on a woman is NOT attractive...ever...

Ok, Chris, put down the Oil of Olay and step away from the mirror. I know you’re probably thinking to yourselves “WOW, she must have taken an overdose of vanity pills this morning!” But seriously, where in the hell did this ugly flap of wobbly skin under my chin come from? I don’t remember it being there last week, last month or last year. But BAM! there it is, mocking me in the mirror this morning as I slather on my five different wrinkle creams and moisturizers, which apparently aren’t working nearly as well as I had hoped. I’m actually considering one of those neck exerciser thingys that I keep seeing on those informercials. Does that sound desperate? Never mind, don’t answer that. While I’m at it, I might as well go ahead and order that Shake Weight to firm up my triceps which are flapping around even more than my neck. Besides, I know Bill has been secretly wishing for me to get a shake weight anyway, just so he can just sit back and watch me use it. I know you know what I’m talking about.

While I understand my wrinkle/flabby neck obsession is a vanity-related issue, I don’t really consider myself a vain person. Yes, I like to look good, and yes, I do spend a considerable amount of time “maintaining the buffet” so to speak. But in my defense, I don’t FEEL 45, so I’m not compelled to ensure that I LOOK 45. My mental age is probably in the 26-30 range, but if I can keep up appearances and be mistaken for a woman in her mid to late thirties, even 40ish, I can certainly live with that. I don’t need to look like I’m half my age. I just don’t want to appear to be twice my age. I believe the rest of the world refers to it as “aging gracefully.”

No matter how you slice it, as a woman, getting older is fraught with moments of self-doubt and lapses in confidence. Some days I wake up, look in the mirror and think to myself “not bad for a middle-aged broad.” Other days, my first thought is “why don’t I have a cosmetic surgery staff on call 24/7?” I’m sure a lot of things factor into it...the bottle of wine I drank the night before, staying up beyond my usual 9:30pm, or perhaps I forgot to dive head first into my jar of Olay Regenerist night cream before slipping between the sheets and drifting off to LaLaLand. Whatever the reason, those are the days I try to cut myself just a bit of slack, reminding myself that no matter how bad I think I look, it’s never as bad as I think. Then I slap on my moisturizer, and apply my MAC heavy duty foundation with a putty knife. Camera ready baby…I’m ready for my screen shot. ;o)

3 comments:

  1. Well, if it's any consolation - you're not as old as my mommy. And by the way, get over it cuz you look great! :-)

    Pickles

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  2. You might as well go the surgical route like my mom. She's has everything lifted from the waist up!

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