I Have an Inch Long Hair on My Chin and the Other Joys of Aging

Inch Hair

I never really minded getting a little older.  In fact I actually enjoyed it because with every passing year I grew in confidence, strength, and wisdom.  I remember being in my 20’s and thinking I knew everything.  Now I look back at my 20’s and realize that even with a college degree and a great upbringing I was a totally naïve about so many things in life.  The best way to understand life is to live it, both the good and the bad.

I also never minded getting older because I have never looked my age.  I shun the sun like a vampire so I have awesome skin.  Seriously, except for a few brow lines that are covered up by some bangs, I have no wrinkles.  I love wearing make-up and haven’t been make-up free since I was 13.  I have dyed my hair since I was 18 so gray hair has never been a problem, and while I do not dress like a teenager anymore, I also do not dress like an old lady.

Unlike my husband who has no knowledge of music that was made after the year 2000, I love rocking out to the new stuff.  Sure, I get in moods where I’ll listen to Duran Duran or Depeche Mode all day, but I absolutely love LinkinPark, Breaking Benjamin, and Rihanna.

However, I can deny it no longer.  I am getting older.  I am only 42, so I am not THAT old, even if my child did ask me if color television had been invented when I was a kid.

Getting older truly does suck.  This morning I was giving myself a facial and as I was rinsing it off I noticed something that freaked me out.  I had a rogue hair…on the side of my chin…that was jet black and an inch long!!  What??  How long had that been there?  Where did it come from?  I know for a fact that I never had that before.  Instantly the tweezers were out and that disgusting hair was ripped out by the root, but now for the rest of my life I will have to look at my chin weekly to make sure the little bugger isn’t growing back.

Then there is this thing called gravity.  It is causing havoc on my boobs.  I have never been perky.  The words perky and Double D’s don’t really go together.  But still, once upon a time they were at least in the right location.  Now I need industrial grade bolder holders to keep those things in place.  I’m not all National Geographic looking when it comes to my boobies, but I find myself wearing my bra now from the moment I get up till the time I go to bed to combat the gravity effect.

As for my knees and feet, well they creak, crack, pop, and ache.  I haven’t been able to wear heels in years.  I love high heels.  I love how they make your legs so long.  I love how they give you that perfect curve to your rear end.  I used to teach all day wearing platform 4 inch heels.  I used to have these AMAZING black leather boots that came up to my knees with 3 inch heels that I wore with tights and a mini skirt.  I felt like Xena the Warrior Princess when I wore them.

Now, after three foot surgeries and knees that grind because my cartilage is all gone and I am bone on bone, I now spend hundreds of dollars on plain looking shoes that don’t cause pain.  Boring!!

I wish I could say that was my only experience with the negative affects of aging but alas it isn’t.  My hormones have gone completely wonky.  Yes wonky.  I am up.  I am down.  I am laughing hysterically.  I am sobbing uncontrollably.  As for my patience, what patience?  I used to have it in spades, now I am likely to turn into the Hulk if you give me any lip.  Some days I feel like a complete witch, and I know I am acting like a witch, and yet I can’t stop the witch from coming out.  I curse you hormones!  You hear that?  I curse you!  Thank god for Zoloft, although I think I need to get my dose increased because lately it doesn’t seem to be as effective as before.

Plus, don’t even get me started about “That Time of the Month.”  Let’s just say I am so ready to have that uterus of mine ripped out already and be done with it!!

Still, I have no intentions of growing old gracefully.  I don’t feel old so I sure don’t want to look old.  Therefore, I will tweeze away, slather on my anti-wrinkle cream, schedule an appointment with my gynecologist to book a partial hysterectomy and get my Zoloft increased.  Then I will turn on Lady Gaga and dance like I’m 20!  At least until my knees start to hurt and I have to sit down for a while.

What battles are you waging with time and Mother Nature?

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