Today call me Bo-curious.

Today call me Bo-curious. As in Botox: The final frontier.  All the cool eight-year-olds are injecting these days; is it time to channel my inner-Judy Garland and sing, “Why oh why can’t I?”

Here’s another question:

Did you know the word botulism derives from the Latin for “sausage”?

Yeah. Neither did I. And who freaking cares? Let us assault our foreheads with “sausage poison” and then do lunch.  Because nothing boosts the appetite like some muscle paralyzer. Am I right?

It’s not that I am vain. Much. One must bathe with greater regularity and don something other than pajamas to garner that particular reputation.

Nevertheless, I’ve caught myself looking in the mirror more frequently; scrutinizing the decline of my slackened skin. The truth is that I’d love the planes of my face to be smoothed, to erase the effects of Father Time. (Time has to be male, right? I mean, really.)

I’ve taught a lot of Shakespeare. His sonnets seek immortality through words (which is great work if you can get it). Yes, the heroines of his plays never succumb to plastic surgery. Still. They’re generally dead by 42 (lucky bastards).  Which means Romeo never finds himself gazing at a middle-aged Juliet and thinking, Really. That’s what your neck looks like now, huh?

We scoff at the Real Housewives (okay their lives suck so maybe not the best example) but Herodotus began searching for the Fountain of Youth long before Ponce de Leon; and Dorian Gray didn’t keep his secret portrait for no reason.

Still. These obsessions came with a price. And it’s not just the potential droopy-eyed side effects or the prohibitive cost that’s keeping me off the sausage poison.

If I were to indulge in Botox treatments, I’d no longer be distracted by wrinkles. If I did decide to do it I would go with a botox injection center in NYC which would take care of me. Afterwards I’d be free to address other worries I’ve been struggling to avoid:

1.  That this blog post may be my last because I’ll never again have anything funny, relevant, original or moving to share. Ever. Thanks. It’s been real. Goodbye.

2.  That despite my best intentions, I am ruining my children. Or I already did. Or both.

3.  That Michael Scott’s no longer on The Office. I love Will Ferrell. But.

4.  That I’m grateful to pay $4.20 a gallon for regular unleaded. I mean seriously. How can anyone afford Botox?

5.  That the twelve pairs of shoes I own are no longer in style. Probably. Definitely. No.

6.  That I can’t pay for college tuitions let alone a vacation to Hawaii. And I like palm trees. Damn.

7.  That I’m a fraud who can’t write and my Novel-In-Progress won’t be published and my family’s sacrifices will be pointless.

8.  That the Skinny Cow ice cream cups I love are, in fact, loaded with fat and calories. And botulism.

9.  That despite my best intentions, I’m ruining my children. I know I said that already. But.

10.  That I’ll never again have living room furniture and people in their forties are supposed to have living room furniture. This is something I know from watching television so of course it must be true.

These thoughts weigh on me. Heavily. And at the end of it all, I’m torn.

Should I erase the evidence of my descent into Life’s Second Half or continue to glide through my forties pretending I don’t care about the crow’s feet?

Because I do care. I don’t want to grow old. Yet. I’m not okay with death – mine or anyone else’s. (Except for those Shakespeare characters. Some of the best ones, after all, are skulls.)

No doubt my fears are petty in the grand scheme of the world’s stage. But still. These are the lines I play.  The lines I write. The lines on my face. I’m sure it’s all related and that I can’t erase one without the other.

So what if aging gives depth to my writing and meaning to my parenting; an appreciation of life’s fragile beauty? Is it wrong to cling to youth for just a bit longer?

Help me out here, people. I need some answers. Or at least a little lunch.

And maybe one or two new pairs of shoes.

99 thoughts on “Today call me Bo-curious.

  1. Two things:
    1) You make me laugh
    2) Botox apparently can “spread” and weaken muscles in other parts of your body. That’s right: frozen snapper. #nothankyou

  2. I have a “worry line” between my nose & forehead. I hate it. And, now that I’m growing old, I have “smile lines” at the edge of my eyes. I hate them. Yet, every now & then I get a comment on how much these elements distinguish me. So, I tell myself that I’m growing distinguished, and not old.

    I still hate them.

    I really wish I knew why “getting old” is so damn difficult.

    I own eight pairs of footwear. One pair of dress shoes, one pair of hiking boots, two pair of Vibram Five Fingers, one pair of sneakers, two pairs of sandals, one set of flip-flops. I live in peace knowing that not one pair is, has been or ever will be fashionable.

  3. Oh, this had so many great references in it.

    I think, this post more than others I have read, pretty much documents the mind of a woman. From the double mention of the fear that you are ruining your children to the skinny cow lie. I hear it all.

    Lately I’ve been finding gray hairs. I will be 34 this summer, but the gray is pouring in now. Through my 20’s I kept saying, “What’s the big deal when it happens? There is dye. Just means more salon pampering!”. However, now that I am here, the issue has hit me like a ton of bricks.

    It’s so very hard to age gracefully. And it’s so hard to know what that even means anymore. Is aging gracefully about taking advantage of the anti-aging advances around us, or is it turning away from them?

    I’m guessing aging gracefully also has something to do with our mental state, but I think a healthy mental state is highly overrated.

  4. Lori Dyan –

    After writing this post, I saw “Modern Family” last night.

    I thought a droopy face was the worst side-effect…

    But frozen snapper? That’s just not right. Thanks for the warning…

  5. Oh, also….

    I thought at this point in my life I’d have significantly less furniture from Ikea. But, alas, it is not to be.

  6. John – I kind of hate that men get “distinguished” and women get “old.” Not fair. But I AM glad I know what Vibram Five Fingers are. Otherwise, I might be worried you have two of them. And also? You make me smile. To hell with the lines around my eyes…

    Amanda – Yes. To all of your comments. Yes yes. At 42, I want to set an example for my kids of not being overly worried about “surface” issues. It’s what’s inside that counts, right? And yet. Being a blue-eyed blond has taken its toll on my skin (blotchy, wrinkled leather anyone?)

    Just being honest. I don’t want to BE young again (much). I just don’t want to look my age (yet).

  7. Amanda –

    Read the “Girl with Dragon Tattoo” series and rejoice. In Sweden, Ikea is super high-end.

    apparently.

    We buy all our crap at Costco. So.

  8. You don’t need botox. You just need some more vacations. Wrinkles are okay when you have many memories to go with them.

  9. So excited to see a new blog from you in my email. 🙂

    You’re only as old as you feel, so how old do you feel? I feel 21 so I stay up half the night on weekends just dicking around on the internet, then my baby wakes me up at 7:30 and I want to die. So maybe feeling a little older isn’t a bad thing (at least helps you get more sleep?)

    Step away from the sausage poison! IF only because the Real Housewives scare the bejezus out of me.

  10. At 47, I have struggled with accepting the changes in my face and body. I support women in doing what feels comfortable for them, and would never judge someone for resorting to botox or plastic surgery. My God- the pressure through the media ( anti-aging, anti-agin. anti-aging….) is enough to send someone over the edge. But for me, I think it would be sad to try to hold on desperately to someone I no longer am. I am not a 35 year old woman any longer. I also no longer sport a chick mullet. That time has passed. I am who I am now. 47. Why should I try to hide that? Is it a crime to be over 35 in our society? Sometimes it feels that way. I’d like to change that.
    Maybe accepting ourselves as we age, as difficult as it is, will build character, and make us beautiful in the places that count: our minds and hearts.

  11. Jessica – You are so. right. I DO need a vacation. Where should we go? Somewhere with umbrella drinks and sunshine (because we don’t care about wrinkles, right?) P.S. LOVE the revamped blog. So pretty.

    Amanda – I have one from you in my email, too ~ after I drop the kids off, I’m covering the mirrors and reading some blogs. Laughter is MUCH better than Botox. Right? And yes. The Real Housewives are super-scary. I can’t even watch.

    Nightmares.

  12. Okay, first thing–twelve pairs of shoes? That’s all?
    Second–really, twelve? My daughter is 11 and has like 90, half scattered about the family room under various pieces of furniture.

  13. Well botox is now cheaper than gas if you buy it with the Groupon. Or at least I’ve heard…

  14. Hollye – Love your words. True true true. I definitely want to raise my children to see the beauty in the minds and hearts of others. Sometimes it’s hard to walk the walk…but I suppose it’s worth the effort. XO

    Tracy – Forget my beautiful mind. What’s this you say about cheap botox on Groupon? I mean, damn the price of gas!

    And also hugs to you, ladies…

  15. Hello from a kindred… (40-something, Shakespeare-reading, taxi-driving mom who also ponders the Latin origin of words sometimes).

    My dermatologist shared wisdom with me: laugh lines disappear when you smile. So don’t stop smiling. Or laughing. Because when you’re doing one or the other you look your best. (Then she tried to cross-sell me Botox.)

  16. I was totally going Tracy’s route.

    Not that I’m admitting to anything.

    I’m just saying.

    And it doesn’t hurt.

    Not that I would know.

    I’ve only heard (myself not screaming). 😉

  17. SuSu

    Oh woman! Just do it! And then let’s go to lunch! Unfortunately (and I do mean unfortunately) it only lasts 3 months … If you don’t like it, it goes away… Way too fast! But I’ll bet you a trip to Hawaii that the sausage poison won’t disappoint. Haha! Today, call me El Diablo;)

  18. Di

    Just keep hanging around with older people and you won’t need the Botox! I would have to argue though that having the Botox could possibly open up a whole new world of blogs!

  19. AllyT

    Awesome, Julie! I can’t wait for your next funny, relevent, and original post! Also, your beauty is still the measuring stick my brother uses to compare all other women to – as in “Wow! She’s Julie C___ pretty!” So relax, be grateful, an slather a little sunscreen on Carly.

  20. Ryne – Seriously 12. I am barely a woman. But I didn’t count flip flops (mostly. just my best pairs). But yeah. I have a couple of running shoes, a couple of black boots, a couple of brown boots, and a lot of flip flops. That’s it. Do slippers count? Oh. And my wedding shoes. But white pumps just don’t come in handy. Very often.

    Lisha – Can’t wait to check out your site because really? I didn’t know there was another one of us out there…(especially the Latin origins part. Hooray, etymology!)

    Renee – You make it sound very tempting. I don’t scream too loudly. Usually.

  21. First, this post served as a reminder that I really need to put you in my reader because, lady? You are FUNNY! AND well-written (and that’s a tough combo!).

    Secondly, I hear you on points 1, 3, 7, and 10. All of them.

    And finally, I haven’t considered botox (yet), but I’d give anything for a tummy tuck. Not liposuction. Just a little nip/tuck to take the cushion away and make things firm again. That’s all. Is that too much to ask?

  22. SuSu – Do I have time to squeeze in an appointment before lunch today? I can’t wait to see you, girly. I will gaze into the smooth skin of your face and smile. (When are we going to Hawaii???!!!)

    Di – Hanging with a woman who has completed the St. George Ironman does NOT qualify as self-esteem boosting time. I feel lazy just typing to you. (Not really. Love you, lady. Lots and lots.)

    Ally T – Okay seriously? That comment made my day. I usually think of myself as the barometer of klutz, so yay! (Steve should see me with my shorts on backwards)…

  23. I think you should send your kids to the University of Hawaii. That could solve one problem.
    I was told that a Botox is all natural. So if it is ok because it is all natural and stops aging signs, then preservatives in food must be all natural as well because they stop aging as well.

  24. Love love love the Shakespeare references. I often think about his sonnets as I blog. Am I trying to remain immortal through my words? (Granted, in a non-poetic, non-iambic way).

    Wrinkles are laugh lines. They are our own personal roadmaps, evidence that we have lived, traveled, felt, loved, and lost.

    We should be hoping for more. The alternative is, well, not ideal at this point.

    Sorry to go all blah-de-blah on ya this morning. Lots going on!

  25. Kristin – I’m thinking some kind of plastic-surgery group rate where everyone gets to pick a body part to enhance…It could work. It might be tough to find someone who wants the butt implant, but a girl can dream.

    Marianne – You. Are. A. Genius. How have I not thought of telling my kids the MUST go to school in Hawaii? Now I have this list of other problems I’d love to hear from you about….when you have time.

    CDG – I love you. And I’ll take turns raising the children. For sure.

  26. randy

    Leanne – I’ll take your blah-de-blah any time. And you think about Shakespeare when you blog? Because I think about you…

    (ha! didn’t mean to scare you. just being funny. not creepy at all. right?)

  27. Okay, Leanne – That last comment was from ME (JULIE) not Randy (he’s my brother-in-law and not creepy) but I was logged in as him by accident (because I am a little bit creepy…)

    But I swear I don’t work at the Bates Motel. Often.

  28. I have three thoughts on this post:

    1. You are so funny that I’m wishing we were twins from another mother.
    2. I too am contemplating the “B” word.
    3. I seriously thought yesterday afternoon that I had reached the ultimate limit of my blogging ability and would never.post.again. So you and I can find a new hobby (just not scrapbooking).

  29. Can I join you and Sherri’s club? We are all so sisters from another mother! I pull at my face every day to see what I would look like with a face lift. I am thisclose to getting botox. now I will admit – I have had facial filler put into my nasolabial folds (a really SICK way of saying laugh lines) and it took years off my face. I don’t regret it for a second. For some reason I am having a harder time jumping in to the botox. But I will likely end up doing it.

    Because until you cross 40, you just don’t get what it feels like to have your body (and mind) changing in ways you didn’t think were supposed to happen until at least 50.

    Sigh. Botox party?

  30. Julie

    Sherri and Gigi – YES YES YES! I am so glad that I’m not living in a one-sided “I love these ladies and totally get them” fantasy land.

    Because you two rock my world.

    The writing, the wrinkles, the kids…oh my.

    I’m ready for some kind of party, I can tell you that. And you guys are welcome anytime.

    Of course, I don’t have living room furniture…

  31. Wanna know a secret, Jules? I’ve had Botox in my ass. Not ON it, IN it, girlfriend. TMI, I know. I’ve posted about it once, a very long post a very long time ago. It’s a long, gruesome story that began with interfility treatments and ended with my requiring ass surgery to repair a fissure. Ew. Long story short? That is probably the only place I’ll ever have Botox. And the saddest part? No one will ever see it!
    LMAO!

    you are so cute & funny. I adore you!

  32. Jen

    You and I should go for lunch. With wine. Maybe then some shoe shopping. Or furniture. Sigh…I know I’m ruining my children, I figure the wrinkles are keeping others’ eyes off my spreading lower half, and I can’t even get STARTED on a Work in Progress (you’re certainly ahead there).
    All that said, ain’t nevah having someone stick poison in my face. 😉

  33. Around here we have combo botox/weight loss clinics. I think they even have some sort of punch card discount system. What could go wrong?

  34. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

    Botulism is the bacteria that lives in pigs. That’s why the Jews don’t eat pork. It’s icky. So why would we inject it in our faces?

    I so felt every thing on your list. Except for The Office. I’m meh on that show. I KNOW! Do you still love me?

    Oh – what’s with the loose skin in my throat area? What can solve that??

    xo

  35. Can’t resist the opportunity to brag on my kids… the 19 and 16 year old boys had (have) to take 4 years of Latin at their high school! I’m raising a house full of nerds!

    http://theluckymom.wordpress.com/2011/04/20/nerd-nerd-more-nerds/

  36. Julie

    Erin – Botox on your ass? Awesome. Never heard of it. So glad the little Red Bean means you won’t have to do THAT again. Especially if you can’t show anyone…

    Jen – You’re on! Especially with the shopping. I need help. Major intervention required. I. am. hopeless.

    Ms. Wasteland – Seriously? A punch card? That’s priceless. Next to my kids’ karate studio there’s a tanning salon. They have punch cards. A LOT goes wrong in there, let me tell you.

    Cheryl – I love you even though you’re Meh on the Office. I watched from the beginning so it makes a difference (unless you tried the show then, too, and didn’t like it. you’re still forgiven). And my throat? Oh lord. I know. I know. I could write a sonnet…

    Lisha – 4 years of Latin is mandatory? Holy Horace! (or someone like that. Virgil would’ve been too obvious, no?)

  37. oh gee I am 52 and seriously shocked at my neck. What the… As far as the kids go, I did my dernedest to mess them up and they turned out fab. No self esteem issues from a mother who said daily” Are you stupid?” No really I did say that. And they were pretty stupid at times. Just goes to show what a good dad can do for balance! haha
    I am skipping botox and going to order the free info on that Lifestyle Lift stuff. Well I’d like to but then my hands and everything else would suck so I am keeping the old face. It goes with my “animal print” hands.

  38. Julie

    Janie – You crack me up, woman! I love your sense of humor and I’m hoping that’s what’s going to keep me looking young (or at least dumb and stupid) for the rest of my life.

    If people are laughing at me, they won’t notice the wrinkles, right?

    XO

  39. cousin Heidi

    Jules, don’t fall for it. Seriously, c’mon. Don’t. Do you think that our grandmothers would have been any MORE loveable, snuggly, sweet, distinguished or sophisticated if THEY had done it? I think not. And you are one of the most beautiful gals on the planet, with or without whatever wrinkles you see on yourself. I’m not trying to be prosaic here, but it really IS what is on the inside that truly matters, and you’ve got both, so don’t try to sell yourself short, and besides, California needs more people like you, and Bill, and who your kids will grow up to be. Not to mention that you continue to be happily married to one of the hottest guys on the planet (nevermind that he is my cousin; I may be biased yes, but still…) who will continue to grow more and more “distinguished” (such a silly word that just doesn’t do the trick), right next to you. 🙂 Who needs botulism? Stay au-natural, my dear. You will regret that less.

  40. Can’t we just somehow freeze time? I don’t want to get old.

    Instead, I avoid the mirror and pretend I’m going to live forever.

  41. Julie

    Heidi – Awwww you made me get misty-eyed here. Thank you. For seeing the real me (and Bill and our family ;-)) You are QUALITY through and through. And you’re right. Hazel couldn’t have been any more beautiful…just like her grandchildren.

    Shell – Yes. Yes we can. Mirrors are overrated. I’m gonna live forever. Like FAME. Only better. Come with me…

  42. NO!

    Nonononononononononono NO!

    No botox.

    I have zero interest in dying – and plan on living forever thanks to life support – but have less interest in looking like a mannequin. Or injecting poison into my system.

    Plus, save your money for when you’ve really ruined your kid and need a new and therapeutic pair of shoes.

  43. Argh! I have this debate daily. Mostly over my baby belly, but that mug of mine is slowly sloughing off of my face.

    And the crow’s feet. But none of it has stopped me smiling. Guess I’m a glutton for punishment, here’s hoping Rapture takes care of these concerns. And that The Office can fill the void left by Michael Scott.

    Oh, and if I am one of the chosen, my kids will have to love me and forgive me for calling them brats very loudly sometimes. And throwing out their toys when they are asleep. I mean, come on! We have NO matching Barbie shoes. Why would we keep them?

    I think I’m drunk commenting. Is that possible if my last and only glass of wine was two hours ago?

  44. i have a horrible furrow line.

    and i am 33.

    can that be fixed because it makes me look like I am forever mad.

    and I am SO NOT.

  45. Eric C

    Julie,
    Poison is bad, period. Start with a less invasive route. Working from home you are in the enviable position to be able to have a chemical peel and not be seen for a few days. Or, go for an inert filler. But poison! Don’t do it!

    Love,
    EC

  46. That Hawaii thing? I’m really feeling that one right now. I need a vacation. Bad.
    My confession: I have always poo-pooed plastic surgery (still do) but have found myself in the face potion aisle repeatedly lately looking at itty-bitty $40 bottles of solutions promising to minimize crow’s feet and “fine wrinkles”. There is no such thing as a “fine” wrinkle.

  47. Julie

    Suniverse – The truth? I’m too cheap to pay for anything I’d have to DO AGAIN in three months. (And those real housewives do scare the crap out of me. especially the lips. oh the lips!)

    Katie – I have that line!!! (lines, actually.) And the crows feet. And the forehead lines. Ah, well. I guess I’m smiling, concerned, surprised and a lot of other good emotions. Oh yeah. And old.

    Eric – CHEMICALS? Yikes. Sounds worse than poison. But I guess I’ve already put plenty of stuff in and on my body over the past 42 years… How bad could a little peel be?

    Ally – I’m thinking a week in Hawaii might, in fact, be the best medicine. For anyone. I’d settle for a weekend in Napa. Or an overnighter in Santa Barbara. Oh Hell. I just need a nap.

  48. I went for bangs rather than botox………I have considered it for my neck, but my luck it was interfer with my breathing and I die.

  49. I have mastered the art of looking in the mirror without really seeing anything. That helps.

    Joking aside, the was beautifully written. Your lines read on every level. Don’t stop writing that book, youre no fraud.

  50. Julie

    Mrs. Tuna – Bangs are brilliant. Can I grow them on my neck, too? Because I would also be the one who’d have something go horribly wrong with an innocent procedure. Or an innocent haircut for that matter. Probably both.

    Annabelle – Wow. Thanks so much for the encouragement. Seriously.
    I do love jokes but compliments about my writing don’t suck. XO

  51. Courtney

    There it is again — that darn age recognition! But this time it came with more laughter. XOXO

  52. Julie

    I’d recognize you anywhere, friend.

    XOXO Court.

    (when can we laugh in person?)

  53. Julie

    Ninja Mom – Don’t know how I missed your comment before because really?

    I love you now. I mean it takes a brilliant woman to throw away Barbie shoes while the kids are sleeping.

    And when you find a box of toys that’s has a mess of legos and army guys and marbles and maybe a penny or eleven at the bottom? WAY easier to just throw it away than sort.

    Am I right?

    And I’m sober, so the answer is maybe.

  54. Eric C

    I mentioned you at girls night (read gay boys) tonight and they all agreed with the chemical peel. It’s like having a bad sunburn, and I know you know all about that miss baby oil, but you recover with baby bottom skin.

  55. Oh Julie- why are you so wonderful?

    Real, worried, funny, gorgeous. Yes, gorgeous.

    XO

    Also? I worry about Michael Scott, too.

  56. liz

    I never would have guessed there were any upsides to sausage poison, so thanks for that. We most certainly don’t want you worried about Skinny Cow fat content nor gas prices.

  57. Too awesome.

    Those worries are all mine too.

    Except the Death one. I see it too much to not be ok with it.

  58. Pop

    Would a botox injection in the butt prevent those dimples? I’m starting to look like I’ve got two massive golf balls for buttcheeks here. TMI?

  59. Julie

    Eric – Okay. I’m in. Bring on the chemicals. (but could I just lie out with baby oil on my face for free?)

    Galit – You are too sweet to me. Not sure I deserve such praise, but I’ll take it. It’s a Friday, after all 😉

    Liz – I might as well start putting Botox in my gas tank. It’s THAT expensive here.

    Tulpen – I actually was thinking about you when I wrote that part about not being okay with death. I envy you in that respect. Because really. I’m not okay. But you remind me that I’m also not alone, so….

    Pop – I’d never heard of Botox in the butt until Erin mentioned it yesterday. And now? I can’t stop thinking about it. In college, I once typed up a 20-page market research paper for my boyfriend about a golf ball that had a “dodecahedral dimple structure.” I’ll never forget it. Or your butt, now. Happy Friday!

  60. Bring Michael Scott back! AHHHHHHH!!!!!

    And I think this is what we get from living in California. Although even in Austin, my mom tells me everyone is getting it done. Point is, I think there are other fun and expensive things you can get done besides the sausage paralyzer! Exciting, no?

    And Skinny Cow is definitely skinny. It has to be. I won’t accept anything else.

  61. Julie

    Chalupa – I’m not arguing with a pregnant woman (especially when I agree with her).

    So we shall spend our money on better pursuits than botox and eat buckets of Skinny Cow.

    It’s now the law.

  62. I can never ever do botox. I’m already wrinkle free (lie). But I tend to think that a face with a few lines, or even a lot of lines, tells a story. Don’t take them away!

  63. Julie

    MommaKiss –

    Oh my face tells a story alright…No shortage of words from me.

    I did, however, have a brainstorm in the shower today: If not Botox, maybe Brazilian.

    What do you think?

  64. My list and yours is freakishly similar. Well, exchange the 40s for the 50s and add the line:
    Why is it that I’ve been blogging almost a year and can’t get a fraction of the comments Julie gets?
    Of course, I can also answer myself with “Julie is brilliant” That’s why.
    True enough.
    And one reason I drink my wine and avoid looking in the mirror as much as possible.
    LOVE your Blog, Love you! Muahhhhh.

  65. “They’re generally dead by 42 (lucky bastards).” Hah.

    How much of aging can we blame on our children? Because I blame everything else on them and am wondering if I can add “slacking neck” to the list. That “kids keep you young” stuff is a bunch on bunk.

    And I’m worried about survival of “The Office.” And you can see the straing its causing me in all nine inches of my forehead.

    First time reader/first time commenter. I’ll be back. Terrific humor and outstanding writing. Superb.

  66. “Strain” and “it’s.” Dammit.

  67. Julie

    Terri – I will drink wine and avoid mirrors with you any time ~ we can toast to freakish similarities. Cheers, lady. You are nothing short of fabulous. (and I don’t even know how tall you are…)

    Chase – SO glad you came here. I Love SSETY. You crack me up and make me smile (which are actually two different effects for me). And yes. The kids are to blame. Always. (well, maybe they aren’t responsible for Michael Scott leaving the office…but.)

  68. Sausage poison is good for so much more than your face these days. Did you know they are also injecting it into bladders and arms? Strange.

    I’m not bo-curious, but I don’t look in the mirror anymore. Problem solved, except now I have all this time on my hands to worry about other things.

  69. Julie

    Kari Marie – I heard migraine, sweating, all KINDS of uses for the poison. But I like the “not looking in the mirror” solution.

    Doesn’t need to be renewed every three months 😉

  70. Great post, Julie. It’s hard for me not to feel a little put out by the physical changes that come with aging. I mean, with age comes wisdom–that’s cool. But just to keep things balanced, we’re gonna take away skin elasticity. Ack. Oh, and you will also forget half the stuff you’ve accumulated in your brain over the years, so there goes some of that wisdom. LOL Can we renegotiate this whole thing? 🙂

    • Julie

      Donna – I know I shouldn’t even bring.this.up. because really, skin is small potatoes in the grand scheme of things; but do I dare admit that for the FIRST time in my life, I’m experiencing some blurry vision after a long spate of reading?

      That’s just not okay. (i know i’m lucky to have had good eyes for 42 years, but.)

      Can I inject something right into my corneas?

  71. Bo-tox = bo-no for me. Although I hear they work somewhat for migraines, and that’s tempting, but there’s a rebellious part of me that doesn’t want to pretend I don’t have the experience and wisdom that I do. I have friends who chose differently, and I think that’s awesome for them. I just can’t do it. It feels like, for me personally, a betrayal of all the me I’ve been before.

    Great, funny post. As always 🙂

  72. I looked like I had Bells Palsy for a week after an unfortunate incident incident with false eyelash adhesive, so for now, I’ll choose bangs over Botox.

  73. There was a time when I thought I would age gracefully. That was before the aging thing became actual reality. Now I find myself considering things I never thought I would. Like botox, surgery, dieting. You are in good company. Also, no matter what we do, we are going to screw up our children. It’s inevitable, really. And for that reason, it’s OK.

    • Julie

      At least my screwed up kids can hang out with some other pretty cool screwed up kids, right? Ah. It’s the little things. Thanks, Lois!

  74. You hit a nerve here! Look at all those comments. I think about this stuff too–but right now I’m dreaming of laser hair removal–also very pricey. My worry about Botox is that once you start it’s kind of like, that’s it, right? You have to keep doing it? Maybe I’m wrong. I wish I had listened to my mother and slathered myself in spf 50 instead of NOTHING when I was younger. Sigh.

  75. Julie

    Pamela – I like that rebellious side of you. And Botox is pretending for sure. Hadn’t thought of it that way but you have a point. And I have a lot of wisdom I shouldn’t hide. (or am I pretending that, too?)

    Poppy – I wore false eyelashes for the first time last Halloween. I was Marilyn Monroe. With Bells Palsy.

    Nina – Not only did I not wear sunscreen, I wore stuff to BRING ON THE SUN. I would have wrapped myself in foil to get the rays on my skin. Ugh. Paying the price. But I did have a lot of fun back then. And a great tan. So there’s that.

  76. I’ll be 35 next month and something is going horribly wrong with my neck skin. I recently took at a small loan to buy eye and night cream. I am right there with you. Sigh.

  77. You go wid yo bad 81 comment self. (82 now with mine). I would raise my eyebrows in astonishment at your superficiality, but I’m having trouble moving the facial muscles around my eyes … it’s nothing. I would never do botox. I really look this young. Honest.

  78. Julie

    Oh Sue – You? Are a baby. If you took out a small loan, I’m looking at a second mortgage. Either that or turtle neck sweaters. And lots of them. Totally worth it though.

    Jennie – You are just awesome. The fact that your current post is on elegance and you bust out a “go wid o bad self” here? Makes me smile. Big.

  79. I believe my fear of needles shall prevent me from ever taking the Botox plunge.

    My issue with it is, sure your wrinkles aren’t there, but then, your face doesn’t move either (or your snapper, according to Lori). I watch a show with an actor/actress and their face doesn’t move – it’s just wrong.

    That being said, I was always anti-plastic surgery and since baby #2 this loose torso skin is the bane of my existence.

    Don’t even get me started about where my breasts used to be….

    Still, you made me smile, again.

    For that, you can resemble and ancient crone – a la the evil woman in Tangled who steals Rapunzel – and I will always find you beautiful.

    Ditto on that whole WIP concern too..

  80. Julie

    Kelly – I know. The whole “your face can’t move” thing worries me.

    I don’t want to smile and have my mouth slide to my ears and my eyes freeze above forehead. Scary.

    I keep hoping they’ll come up with something better to cope with aging. Besides wine, of course.

  81. I love this. You’re brilliant, I can’t wait to read your novel:)

  82. Julie

    Twinisms/Bridget – Thanks! I can’t wait to read my novel, too. Seriously. When is this thing going to be done and published?

    Hopefully Friday?

    🙂

  83. omg…we have so much in common, who knew? do you live in illinois, can we get together?? maybe have coffee? or a tequila shot? or even a hot dog?

    promise me you’ll give me the answer on the botox thing because i’m so in the same BOAT.

    plus, do i follow you on twitter? if not, can you shoot me a message on twitter so that i can figure out how to follow you (because i still kinda stink at twitter.)

  84. Julie

    France – I do NOT live in Illinois, otherwise I’d be on your doorstep with coffee, tequila and a syringe of Botox right now…

    I do follow you on Twitter but alas, you don’t follow me.

    I will labor to fix that situation now ~

  85. sigh. i hear this! not a day goes by that i don’t think, “if Otto has his first kid at 30 like I did then I’ll be 60… and then 78 when my grandkid graduates high school and I don’t want to be 78, ever!” (these are the things that keep me up at night). Also, Skinny Cow is totes skinny, don’t you dare spread rumors that it isn’t or I’ll have nothing left to cling to! Sidenote, you can get botox at the tanning salon these days and if you want to give it a sausagey whirl just go for it. Who cares! Right? Or, right???

  86. Hello Love!

    I’m feeling you, especially every time I look in the mirror and fixate on those 2 little lines growing sharper, those lines where I’ve squinted myself into wrinkles right before my eyebrows begin.

    Every once and awhile, I get so worked up, I think, okay maybe a little Botox. But then my more sensible girl side kicks in and I think, Own Those Lines. But really? Who wants to own frown lines?

    My French friend who is glorious with her sense of self says that Europeans scoff at us Americans and the way we disfigure ourselves in the pursuit of youth and beauty. She says their culture finds beauty in every age. And I love that, but it’s hard to find that beauty when every freakin’ body is Botoxing.

    I say, do whatever is going to make you feel better. That’s the only answer I have, sadly, since I struggle with the same thing. My solution for the time being is my wonderful Retin A and growing my bangs to a sexy, long side sweep to hide those lines.

    Also? Never, ever, ever doubt yourself on #7. The fact alone that you are writing it, is a spectacular thing. Everyone always says, “Some day”. You’re doing it and that’s what matters. Write hard, my friend.

    And just so you know, regrets? I’ve had a few. Like that king sized Baby Ruth bar that I promised myself I would only take 2 bites of. You cannot EVER take two bites of a Baby Ruth. It’s just not possible. *Sigh*

  87. One must bathe with greater regularity and don something other than pajamas to garner that particular reputation.

    Good grief, I adore you. How do I write this without coming across all crazy-like?

    I want to have coffee with you. So we could talk for hours about those unfortunate Capulet necks, and how we are ruining our children. About the fears of wasted potential and not being interesting, or at least not as interesting as in our own minds?

    Your words slay me. I get you. And I’m so grateful that you share with us all.

  88. Julie

    Lindsey – I spend a lot of time calculating the ages I will be at certain milestones with my kids. Generally, the number does not fill me with joy. And yet? I keep doing it. (Like eating at PF Changs. I never feel good afterward, but…:-))

    p.s. Sausagey whirl sounds interesting…I knew I liked you.

    Joann – Have I told you lately how glad I am that you’re BACK??? Also, my dear friend says she would have been totally willing to age gracefully…but she wanted everyone ELSE to do it too. And they weren’t. So now? She hits the Botox. I say, let’s move to France, drink wine, and embrace our wisdom and beauty. (do they sell Baby Ruths there, though?)

    Nancy C – Yes. We could talk for hours about it. And it wouldn’t be crazy-like. I love your kindred spirit, my friend. Coffee with you? Someday. If I’m lucky. Until then we’ll continue to share in the blogosphere. XO

  89. I’m afraid if you inject botulism so near your brain, you may not be able to write like this anymore. But then again, maybe your writing would be even prettier and youthful, like Demi Moore. I think I’ll use writing as my justification for getting it. Why tighten sentences when you can tighten foreheads!!

    I’m right there with you – I don’t want Botox, but in 5 more years when they have something maybe a little less scary-seeming, I will probably slam that needle between my eyes.

  90. Julie

    Erin – Oh My God you called Demi Moore pretty and youthful.

    So now I officially love you.

    (and the theme from St. Elmo’s Fire may or may not be playing in my head…)

    I am definitely crossing my fingers for a less-scary/expensive and more permanent/realistic solution to slam between my eyes within five years.

    Demi’s got nothing on us. (well, not much.)

  91. Wow. I’m jumping on the comment bandwagon a little late – but you echoed my fears and thoughts completely. Especially re: Skinny Cow ice cream. I had 2 this weekend. I mean, who puts the words “skinny” and “cow” next to each other? It’s wrong, just wrong. I’m going back to Haagen Daaz.

  92. Julie

    Melissa –

    I can’t believe I never thought about the irony (oxymoronishness?) of the words “skinny” and “cow” being used to name a product…

    Now I’m going to have to worry about that all day long.

    (or, like you, purchase Haagen Daaz. :-))

  93. I don’t even know how to comment because there are so many funny things to mention! Love the list and how you’d obsess about these other things if you had botox.

  94. Julie

    Thanks Elena –

    Yep. I am still safely obsessed on the creases on my forehead and the wrinkles at the sides of my eyes…

    For now.

    (of course, I’m also aware that a few of my friends are checking me out carefully to see when/if I take the plunge. talk about giving myself away – ha!)

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