Thursday, November 4, 2010

Why I Won't Have A Face Lift

This is an example of what I think would be a good face lift.

This woman looks years younger, don't you think? Of course the hair is different too. And the glasses are gone.

Yeah, she looks pretty good. Still, I will never go "under the knife". Why?

If you started at my face, you'd have to go on to my neck. My boobs would also have to be "lifted" along with my butt. Hell, I think my arms would have to be lifted (particularly the little jiggly bits), and even my hands. I would need a thigh lift, a knee lift, and a tummy tuck while we are at it. Plus my ankles could be made tighter as well. We won't even go into the vaginal rejuvenation although it's also an option. I understand I can even be made a virgin again, if that's of interest to me. Imagine giving your husband an anniversary surprise like that!

I don't knock anyone who feels it would make them feel better to look younger. But frankly, I don't mind my outside matching my inside. I am in an age group where a lot of my friends have opted for "little cosmetic enhancements". Bless their hearts, that's great if it makes them feel good.

I don't mind being my age. I don't mind looking my age. I do mind the idea of someone cutting off my skin or giving me a chemical peel, or sucking out my fat! Ouch! If I have imperfections, (and I guess we all do), I don't mind them. In fact, I like them just fine. If my boobs are not as high because of the sag of maturity, I think that can be kind of sexy. If I've gotten a little "squishy" that's fine with me. I have all the markings of a woman who has lived life.

Frankly, I'd rather be who I am now than who I was when I was 30. I don't even mind the supposed ravages of age and gravity. You'll never "be" 20 years younger than you are. Getting older is not a curse. Fearing getting older is.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

The Things You Do For Love

Today was the San Francisco Giant's Parade.

The Giants won the world series in San Francisco for the first time ever. The City of San Francisco hosted a major victory parade for the team and the fans.

Although I've been hobbling around for the last 4 days or so, (or lying flat on my back) there was no way I was going to miss this once in a lifetime event.

Did any of you see the movie "Frida" starring Salma Hayek? If you saw it, you may remember the opening scene that showed Frida being carried in her four poster bed to get to an show that was exhibiting her work. I think I may have pictured myself in somewhat the same situation. Frieda's art show was important for her. The Giant's parade was important for me. Frida was on her deathbed when she was carried to her show. I was merely suffering from a sprained lower back. No contest. I was going.

My husband took off work to go. My son took off work to go. The kids were allowed to miss school for the day. My daughter and her husband closed their company for the day. Their kids also missed school. It was that important.

I did my version of orange and black to emulate the Giant's uniforms. And put on my face, my platform shoes, and my lucky earrings. I was ready to go!

The first time I thought this was maybe not the best idea I've ever had was when I got out of bed this morning. My back spasm hit immediately and made me yelp. Not an auspicious beginning to my day. Getting into the car was somewhat painful, sort of like childbirth. And taking the train with people packed so tightly that at least you couldn't fall down if you had to, proved to not be the most soothing thing I've ever done.

Once off the train, we began the 1/2 mile walk to where we would view the parade. Challenging when you keep getting knives stuck in your back. Never mind. I can do this. We got to the pre-agreed upon spot and met up with the kids and the grandkids. Everybody was in very high spirits. We pushed ourselves into the crowd and got as close to the front as we could. It was splendid so far. The energy of the crowd, (estimated as 500,000 to over 1,000,000 people) was really very energizing.

I looked at my watch, and it was 10 AM, straight up. The parade was due to start at 11. Okay, now I stand here in one place for an hour. No room to move around. Close enough to a couple of people that I could have gotten pregnant by them right there and then. It was wonderful.

Standing there on my spot of concrete, I began to realize this romantic notion of love for my team might have been a dreadful mistake. I kept shifting from foot to foot and trying not to lock my legs. I did not want to lose my vantage point, so wandering any place to sit for a moment was not going to happen.

What was I thinking? Well, I tend to be a touch claustrophobic in the first place. Also, my back was not feeling all that great either. Nor were my legs. Nor were my feet for that matter. Still, I smiled and waved when the parade finally started! I cheered for my team while I considered what an idiot I am!

After the end of the parade, we walked another 1/2 mile (uphill this time) to find a pub for lunch. I really almost gave in to my grandson's offer to carry me. (Don't worry, he's big and strong.) Still, I soldiered on myself. Lunch was nice. Getting back home and into my nightgown and robe and lying flat on my back again was even nicer.

The things I've done for love are a lot worse than the things I've done for money.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

The Hitchhiker

Looking out the windshield, we saw what looked like a leaf on the glass.

We were at a stop light and the light turned green about the time the "leaf" climbed up a little higher and grabbed on to the wiper blade. Since we were getting on to the freeway, stopping was not an option.

I saw a pair of bulging red eyes looking directly at me and I said "Oh my God, Alex! Look!" Thinking it was a leaf, Alex reached for the wiper blades and I screamed "No!".

We were going about 70 miles per hour on the freeway and pulling over was not an option, nor was slowing down much. The critter held on for dear life. I was imploring that Alex "do something" but there really was nothing to be done. We continued on down about 5 miles to our turn-off, and got off the freeway.

At least now we were going at a much more reasonable rate of speed for some poor critter holding on to the windshield wiper. I insisted that Alex pull over. We really couldn't expect this guy to hold on much longer. (If he had been blown off, he would have probably gotten hit by a car!)

We pulled over and Alex found a paper cup and got the critter into it. We named him James and he rode in the cup with me holding it all the way home. James was looking up at me in relief.

We got home and placed James on the hood of the car. He stayed there for a couple of hours because I kept checking on him. In the morning when I went to see if James was still there, he was gone. I hope he's okay. I think he was a cricket, but how would I know!

Monday, November 1, 2010

Oh My Aching Back!

I look nothing like this woman.

This woman has back pain but she's wearing clothes and lipstick and she has brushed her hair. Plus, this woman is skinny and I am not.

This woman is also sitting in what looks to be a neat and tidy room.

When my back goes "whap" I cannot put on clothes. I cannot walk. I cannot even breathe without pain.

It doesn't happen often, but when it happens, I am unable to move my legs without gasping in pain. I have these episodes about 3 or 4 times a year.

I'm very lucky to have a husband who understands this and does everything possible to make me more comfortable. Oh wait! I have a husband who travels all the frigging time so he's not here to make me comfortable. What was I thinking?

Did I expect someone to bring me water once in a while? Did I expect someone to feed me? Next thing, I'd be expecting someone to bring me hot wash cloths to wash my face or my dirty butt for that matter.

My house is in shambles. I cannot pick up stuff off the floor. The pizza box from last night is still on the kitchen table. Harry will probably pull it off to chew the cardboard before long. I can't load dishes in the dishwasher because that would involve standing and bending and I can do neither.

The cat has loaded up his kitty litter box and I can do nothing about it. The dogs are hungry and I can't get down to pick up their bowls to feed them. I'm eating crackers and cheese and sharing with the dogs for now. And the toilet lid is up so they are okay for water.

Hopefully, this will get better before we run out of cheese, crackers and toilet water. If not, you may not hear from me again as the dogs will have decided to eat me.

You could send me morphine if you have some laying around.