Growing older is so bizarre.
I can't begin to understand what my body is thinking or trying to tell me.
There is no way to anticipate its changes and I can't keep up with them either.
Trapped in it, there is no escape.
So I'll blog about it....
Once I got past my child bearing years, plucking my moustache hairs became a weekly necessity.
I know moustaches are the cute 'in' thing right now with jewelry and accessories, but trust me when I say that only the young people are buying that mess.
Once a woman begins to 'groom' her own mustache, any reminder of added facial hair will stay a million miles away.
It starts out....just being there.
Those very fine dark hairs on your upper lip that you get bleached, waxed or plucked with the hope that no one notices all the stragglers or the dadgum new ones that appear in between treatments!
But as you get older, some of those fine hairs turn into barbed wire and appear over night.
No weekly treatments anymore, you have to study yourself daily, with tweezers, in the mirror, before going out in public.
Remember the scene in 'My Big Fat Greek Wedding" where the women are getting ready for the wedding and the little sister-in-law (who wants to feed lamb to a vegetarian) tweezes hair off the face of the mother of the bride, while they talk?
I need her in my life!
Now maybe it's only me, but when I am waxed, plucked, shaved, trimmed and showered, I feel like a Diva.
Beautiful, Healthy, Invincible and Fabulous.
So why isn't laser hair removal covered by insurance?
Why can't insurance companies actually ask women what kind of policy they need to live long and happy lives?
Instead, we get our mammary glands squeezed, smooshed and x-rayed with giant plastic machines.
We get our 'hoochies' exposed, poked and proded with cold metal instruments and giant q-tips.
I can tell you that when those insurance covered procedures are finished, I do not, in any any, feel like going out on the town so you can see me be beautiful, healthy, invincible and fabulous.
I'm just saying that if our frame of mind were "I'm hairless and spectacular", then maybe we wouldn't need the doctor so often.
Sort of like the 'apple a day' theory.
My body refuses to be my own, it is morphing-- willy nilly--- every day---- without my permission.
It has a mind of it's own and it thinks weird hairs sprouting up repeatedly in random places is the go to 'systems default' of its function.
A lot of times I don't even find these stupid hairs until they're 2 inches long and trying to form braids with each other.
Then I am left weeping and hoping that the people I have met recently have eyesight as bad as mine!
A little warning might be nice... O Brain of Mine.
I'm sure that one day there will be a Sasquatch sighting in the southern woods and you can be pretty confident that it was me.
Blame it on the insurance companies.
I'm just sayin'.
Thanks for being here.
Did you see that?