Mirror, mirror on the wall, lie to me, damn you!

I have a bump on my nose. Granted, you are probably laughing now and thinking, "Good Lord, how narcissistic can she be?? I assure you, I could be worse.Does that answer your question? Back to me: Yes, the bump is in the middle of my nose, and yes it is small and yes...every time I look in the mirror, I see it. I don't care if no one else can see it, I can. And I am constantly touching it, because it just feels....wrong. I haven't always had a bump in the middle of my nose. I woke up one morning and it was just...there. Kind of like those annoying neighbors that move in in the middle of the night. And throw wild parties. And bring their friends.

And yes, my bump has brought his friends. I now have bumps on my eyelids, too. I am aware that it's gross, but again, you can't see them, just me. They tell me it is all a part of growing older; you lose your baby-smooth skin. Truthfully? I think someone comes in when I am sleeping and adds moles and pigmentation, sort of an insane Dot Fairy...I picture her like the Jack in the Box chick, going through menopause, wild look in her eye, and all "street rat crazy" as Jack put it, with her paintbrush and liquid latex, attacking my body while I sleep.

I awake each morning to the bold new joy of new skin tags where none have been before.Now I know how the Starship Enterprise feels... only without Zachary Quinto. (come to me, my gorgeous hunk of serial-killer Vulcan-ness, you!) Set phasers on stun, boys, mama ain't gonna grow old gracefully! I remember when I was a young (and stupid) teenager, looking at my mother with all her moles and skin tags and just being...secretly grossed out. I was proud of my own flawless skin: legs that were shapely and had no discernible pattern of skin, just smooth, arms without blemish or freckle. I had no idea in my stupidity that I was looking into a Time Mirror! This is God getting even with me for laughing at my mother, right? Because I look in the mirror (as little as possible these days) and I see all of that and more. So far, there are no hairs in my nose, thank everything holy. But the little crows' feet and "laugh lines" around my eyes? Got. To. Go.

I finally understand why women use botox. Yeah, so it's a toxin. But your face! has few wrinkles! And life is a perpetual surprise! All the time! I am actually starting to temper my reactions to things going on around me. I frown less. I definitely scowl less. And I swear, I never thought I would be putting my hands to my forehead to make myself smooth out those lines before they become craters. I didn't expect to be a vain woman, who cares about her age. And truly, in some sense, I don't. I wouldn't trade the years of experience for anything! But when I feel like a twenty-three year old, and look in the mirror to see a not-twenty-three year old? I am not happy. When I go out with JNerd and he gets carded and I fricken don't? I am not happy.

Ok so it's not all bad. They say that sex gets better after 40. It's true. But when your hip locks up? Not. good. And it isn't because I am in lousy shape, either. My body is just getting older. My knees hurt a lot. My legs hurt. I am a wimp, and this getting older thing just SUCKS. Hollywood stars have personal trainers, and private chefs and money for Procedures like chemical peels and botox and lots of specialties so that they still look good well into their 50's. But what about the rest of us?

Granted, life is far from over. Haven't you heard that 50 is the NEW 30? But...in an increasingly vain world of photoshopped magazine covers, where there are few examples of growing old gracefully, perfectly coiffed celebs at awards shows refuse to show their age. And the ones who do are scary-making (seen Angela Lansbury lately?) what is the alternative For Mrs. Mostly-Sane Suburbia? How do women find their place in the sun? (with sunscreen to avoid wrinkles and skin damage, of course!) How do they become comfortable with who they are growing to be? And how do they accept that image in the mirror when the phantom of what they once were skulks just behind in the shadows, eternally out of reach?

I wish I knew.

T, who is really torn on this one

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