Friday, April 08, 2016
Beauty is Only Skin Deep
But I could not get the picture of her out of my mind. She had had so much skin pulled, tucked, inflated and re-arranged, she looked like a claymation figure. The more I considered her image, the more absurd and further from reality it became. I could not imagine what waking up next to her would be like.
I finished my chores and immediately fired up the computer. Apparently there is a medical definition for addiction to cosmetic surgery. It is known as "body dysmorphic disorder". What is it with the medical folk that they insist on labeling every problem with a name that normal folk cannot understand? Couldn't they just label it "addiction to cosmetic surgery" and be done with it? Whatever. I guess somebody has to keep a breath of life in a dead language. Might as well be doctors.
With the unfortunate woman's face still fresh in my mind, I stopped in front of the bathroom mirror and considered what might be needed to give me twenty years back.
Hmm ......... No double chin yet. That's good I guess. My face is slightly larger now, but there's still almost a full head of hair on top. My nose is still small and inconspicuous. Again, a good thing I guess. But I'll tell you what. A small nose brings with it some real disadvantages. Because of it, I was never able to learn how to properly pick it. Even as a wee one, hangin with my buds at the playground slide, I could never plunge even a knuckle deep to get at the good stuff like my peers. At the time I was sure they thought less of me because of my lack of talent at nose mining. But we all have to live with physical challenges and I have learned to deal with mine.
Once I had recognized the unfairness of a small nose, my eyes moved to my eyes obscured by glasses looking back at me in the mirror. I removed my glasses and leaned in hard to bring my face back into focus. What's this under my eyes? Are those water balloons? I am packing some serious eye baggage. Looks like someone stuffed a tennis ball under each eye. And the crow's feet at the corners of my eyes look like Big Foot stomped on my face. Add in the scars I had accumulated from years of launching myself head first into almost everything I did, well, I have to say maybe that woman didn't look so bad after all.
I considered my previous horror upon viewing her for the first time while checking out my 63 year old mug. The face that stared back at me with just a little make up, maybe a highlight here or some shadow over there, could land me an extra spot on "Walking Dead". At least I did not have to pay one red cent to grow this ugly. No sense paying for something you can do yourself.
An addendum to this post - For some reason the comments were turned off for this post. Not sure what I did, but I must have pissed off the Internet gods or something.
Odd. Very Odd.