What’s that song by ABC (one of my beloved 80s bands) about Vanity? And it not being a good quality to have. I am not a vain person. Far from it, actually. I have always intended to grow old gracefully. I don’t look too shabby for a semi-ancient broad. Those of you that were unlucky enough to see my pics on my birthday post may disagree, but whatever. I’ve never been into beauty treatments or anything high maintenance. I’m the gal that can be showered, changed and ready to go in half an hour. The one that refers to her grey hairs as highlights. I never want to worry about ‘upkeep’ or ‘maintenance’; it’s just not my style.
Until I joined Groupon and Living Social and they insist on sending me really great deals on things like this. So far this year I have had hair lasered, veins removed and teeth whitened. I still have certificates for spray tans and body wraps and mani/pedis and brow shaping and the thing I thought I would never ever do. Botox. Now don’t get me wrong, I also have hoarded certificates for restaurants, kickboxing classes, bowling and gun ranges as well.
Back to the whole Botox thing. I’ve never minded wrinkles. I don’t even have that many and the few that I do have, at the sides of my eyes, are caused from smiling. I like those. I wear them proudly. I’ve never wanted to be the gal that has the same wax expression on her face regardless of mood. That always looks perpetually surprised. I firmly believe that you should be able to tell by looking at someone if they are sad or happy or angry or just plain spacey. I have an overly expressive face. To the point where people have told me that I’m making a face when I don’t even realize I’m doing it. I worry about this. Not a lot, mind you, but still. I worry about a lot of things. All the time. And thus I have worry lines between my brows. Now those I could definitely do without. So today, my dear friends, I am going for Botox. And scared shitless.
I hope to god that I don’t end up looking like Patty Stanger this season. I still can’t even figure out what the hell she’s done to herself.
After that, I shall go home, bleach my teeth, pluck my eyebrows and make myself a big ole’ cocktail in anticipation of a hot Friday night at home. Alone. With the dogs. 😉 Where have my priorities gone?