November 25, 2008

You're special just the way you are...well, until you start to resemble Emperor Palpatine

“I’m like so fearful of getting wrinkles, so I’m buying all these…”, I heard the lady next to me say loud-enough-for-anyone-not-eavesdropping-to-hear-anyway on her cell phone, as she ogled the wide array of beauty potions at Walgreens. Meanwhile, I was there for dish washing detergent, as the store had a buy-one-get-one-free—nope, I refuse to fall prey to that let’s-cut-the-words-really-short-to-the-point-of-grunting-forget-succinctness-just-because-we-all seem-to-be-in-a-constant-mad-rush-in-this-hyper-information-and-hypo-attention-span-age “BOGO” term; this time, acronyms just won’t do for me—special (each came down to 79 cents, can you believe it?!#*!?...lower than the dollar store junk!#%*!), splenda (same case here, $2.99 for 100 packets and I had a $1.00 off coupon as well), facial tissue which the manager gave me a rain check for should the next shipment arrive sometime in 2025, and, yes, a tried-and-true, good-old’-fashioned, no-fuss St. Ive’s facial lotion just because my face felt so tight and cracked, like I needed lip-balm all over my face…well, that’s just it, I needed a face balm. Not that I don’t secretly detest old age when it comes, because I bet my still fresh rear that 50% of women on earth really want to keep their youthful appearance, some of which haven’t realized it yet as they are still very young and in their diapers, and the other 50% are in their graves with the worms, their bodies or bones sans skin rather, with their spirit elsewhere. My point is, “Lady, could you be a bit louder and more blunt when broadcasting your rhytiphobia and gerascophobia (fear of wrinkles and old age), because being subtle is simply out nowadays, especially when everything is in, like men who aren’t gay but dress like women anyway, and old women who think they can still parade their sexuality by the way they dress and act. Am I being sarcastic here? Am I? Am I? So, people, won't you please announce all your thoughts a little louder already? Tis the day of confessions and testimonies, remember? Forget about whom you’ll affect, such as children—especially yours…when they come, if you don’t have any yet, as you constantly remind them the joy of being yourself because they’re special just the way they are, but only while they’re still young and they must fight those damn wrinkles when they come, and better yet, help these kids be proactive now and get that nose, lip, or chest job while they’re still fresh. Take them to the doctor for a nice set of pouty lips like those of the Bratz dolls. We’re in the day and age when we’re just going to be real, so come clean already people! Say, I will fight old age until the day I join the worms in the dirt and eventually become dust myself. By the way, while others prefer the more natural olive oil, my mom prefers Oil of Olay for its fighting capabilities, battling the 7 signs of aging. I’ve yet to find out which is a better remedy for banishing wrinkles. Maybe, a really effective potion, even a magic wand, would be discovered years from now, to forever vanquish old age. I’ll be crossing my fingers for that one. For now, I rejoice in my St. Ive’s face balm. And just maybe, I’ll later join the fight against old age.

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