Cousin turned 25 today and I had to take a long good look at myself in the mirror. If Cousin is 25, then exactly how old am I? I mean, I remember when she was born!
I do know how old I am but it hasn't really "clicked" until now. I mean, fuggin' hell! My skin! My skin isn't as nice as it used to be. When did it start to get blotchy? And really, how many young people go to see a doctor because they are concerned about melanoma? And when, in the name of everything holy, did I have to start using more concealer than when I was in high school? Huh? I'd be very happy for someone to tell me. I'm spending a fortune on various moisturisers. Chanel (favourite but expensive), No7, Aco, Aloe etc. I've even bought one of those creams called "age"-something. I must have turned a corner somewhere without realising it.
This age-thing is getting to me and I am beginning to fear celebrating my twenty-tenth birthday. There's got to be a place where I can go into hiding... If anyone wants to start thinking about presents then here's a great one; it starts with a B and ends in OTOX.
1 comment:
Oh please darling, you cannot possibly be that old - I mean, then I must be next and that is sooooo not happening for quite some time :-)
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