Friday, November 16, 2007

Milestones

A week's worth of milestones – it is now a year and a day since I started this blog. I am surprised it is still going. Many is the day my beautifully manicured finger is poised over the "delete this blog?" button – but as yet I have not been caught out, although should you revisit this site one day to find I have gone, I am sure you can imagine why.

And another milestone; I visited a certain clinic this week. When it comes to these things, I have always thought "never say never," but now I say "never again." While it wasn't terribly painful, it was demoralising to say the least, and my face is leaking something most unpleasant. I realise now that no matter what you do, it is never going to be good enough.

Father Time is far too clever to be fooled by a bit of surgical jiggery-pokery. How long can women fake youth, before they no longer look 30-something, but just a really peculiar fifty-something?

The receptionist read my form. "Oh," she said brightly, "you're only a few years older than me!" Curses! I know that tone too well – it said, "Ha ha! I look waaaay younger than you, Grannie!" I know the tone, because I have used it myself on others. But she was right. Her face was as smooth and white and unlined as a freshly boiled egg. I spent the afternoon recovering, watching movies and scrutinising actresses crows-feet.

So. It was all rather depressing. I told Mr Smith I didn't think I would ever do this again, and he would just have to accept that I would one day turn into a wizened old crone. He said, "Never mind, you'll be my wizened old crone," by which I know he meant well, but I had hoped for something a bit more flattering.

Another thought; You know how some clothing shops put those vanity mirrors in their dressing rooms – that make you look extra thin? I think the clinic had one of those too, except a mean version. Bloody hell! What a sight! Perhaps they do it so ladies come rushing into theatre screaming "Forget the cost, give me one of everything."

Well. Fuck that.

10 comments:

llew said...

You look longingly at the Delete button too eh?

I had laser surgery once (long story deep in the bowels of my blog somewhere), and yeah, it's disgusting when your face leaks.

Mind you, I had cataract surgery too & in time for Halloween a few years ago I had the bestest bloodshot eye anyone has ever seen - children were forced to look away from me.

So. Cool. Cleared in a few days unfortunately, I was beginning to like it.

PM of NZ said...

As you always tell us of the effort required on ones' part to remain at your peak of elegance, this recent visitation milestone is only a step in a long journey.

I am sure you would never descend to the levels of those already wizened old crones, with visibly puffy bits, so evident on our TV screens in the netball commentary boxes this week...

MY said...

Both Llew and IdleVice - please don't look longingly at the Delete button ever again.

unPC lesbian said...

Oh, you are such a tease....you know I'm going to want intimate details of what you had done.

Mr Smith....please remove the delete button

Mark said...

"although should you revisit this site one day to find I have gone, I am sure you can imagine why."

And life as we know it would end...

It's always best to grow old with dignity and grace - far more appealing traits than mere beauty, and far more sexually appealing, in my opinion...

Mrs Smith said...

Thank-you, Mark - you and Mr Stratford can duel to the death for the privilege of being my second husband.

UnPc - Never telling...

PM - a step on a long journey? That's not nice. You don't get to be even my third husband.

Robyn said...

Itchy deletion finger is symptom of the year-old blogger.

What happens is you've had your blog up and running for a while, you've got over the three-month hump (where initial enthusiasm peters out, and the blog dies), but then you start reading back on your old blog entries. And the old ones seems quite naive and badly written and you wonder if you should delete them, or maybe the whole blog is naive and badly written and should you delete the whole thing. Ugh.

But you gotta stick with it. And don't blog drunk.

george said...

Dear Mrs Smith. All is not lost until your trousers start leaking something most unpleasant.

Chin up, and in the interim, enjoy life.

Mrs Smith said...

Robyn - I've blogged drunk a few times. Any post I've published after four in the afternoon (there have been a couple at least), and inebriation of varying degrees is a guaranteed thing.

George - Good point. Will put 'no leaking trousers' on my Things To Be Thankful For list.

Mark said...

Maybe I should give it until 7 in the evening to ask you to be my next cleavage pic contributor...