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Lorraine, you have unwittingly brought up an entirely new and disturbing issue we women have to deal with whilst (I saw The Nanny and I like this word) going through the magical and very special journey of Menopause.

The issue:  FACIAL HAIR!

And the tricky thing about facial hair is that you have to put on your reading glasses to see any protruding signs of testosterone.  And when you have your reading glasses on when you look in the mirror, well…let’s just say…depressing (and that’s even after Botox, Juvederm and Retina-A!).

A couple of months ago I went to one of those quickie nail salons where the women are wonderful but don’t speak a word of English.  There’s always a lot of nodding and smiling going on.

Whilst I was sitting there getting a manicure, the technician suddenly leaned across to me and stuck out a very long bony finger.  She was pointing to something on my face saying (in a loud voice mind you in the crowded salon), “L O O O N G  H A A A A A A I R! 

L O O O N G  H A A A A A A I R!”

I had no idea what she was talking about, so I just sat there nodding and smiling.

She became impatient with me.

“NO, YOU HAVE L O O O O O O N G  H A A A A A I R!” pointing to a mole on my face.

OMG!  I suddenly felt like a 7^th grader who’s been humiliated because she can’t yet fit into a training bra and the pubescent pimply boys are pointing and snickering and muttering something about being a “carpenter’s dream” (fine, that was me but it’s too painful to talk about).

As I realized she was pointing out a very long hair that had appeared out of a lovely fashionable mole on my face (much like Cindy Crawford’s), I was horrified to see every head in the place turn in my direction. 

I turned a nice shade of bright red which fortunately matched my nail color perfectly.

“YOU WANT GOOOOOOONE?  YOU WANT WAAAAAAAX?”

Now the crowd leaned forward in anticipation of my response.

“Well, uh, sure, snicker snicker, okay, yeah that sounds good.”

Fortunately, I was whisked quickly into a secret back room where hot cruel wax was slathered on my face and a form of torture never felt before was performed ten minutes later.

The good news is that I left with beautiful nails and a hairless face (although still red).

Now I have a new obsession and have purchased a small mirror and a razor I keep with me at all times.  Guess I won’t be flying anytime soon.

Mary 

Hey Mary,

Looking at the Mona Lisa all “pimped-out” is so disturbing.  At least Mona knew how to age-gracefully; something that our current society has not only forgotten but probably doesn’t think is possible.

We were supposed to be the generation of strong and empowered women yet we fold like a cheap pant-suit when we see a wrinkle …….we act immediately to have it filled or stretched so we can keep the middle-aged facial slide at bay.

Yes, you and I did the Juvederm in some localized spots and we are happy with the results but I think we are slowly realizing that even with a little help at “maintenance”, our age is starting to show.

The thought of constant up-keep in the form of needles, toxins and pain with the consummate procedure being a full face lift is making me nervous.  Nervous not only about the actual cutting and stitching but nervous about always feeling nervous about what aging looks like.

We really only look 40 something in the dark of night, in the fog or under lights with major filters and we have to start dealing with that reality. Our 50 years may slowly be showing on our mugs and somehow we have to gain the confidence of putting it out there and feeling GREAT about it.

Definitely easier said then done in a world of “younger is just better”, but we have to start with any coping mechanisms that will stave off looking plastic, worked-on and just plain silly….

I will start looking for these mechanisms as soon as the Juvederm wears off…!!

Lorraine

I’ve been thinking about Lorraine and my recent trip to the Botox/Juvederm guy.  And, I have to admit I’m liking the results, now that I’m past the bruised and battered phase.

But I’m also realizing, what are all of these age-denial money-sucking procedures ultimately going to do for me?

A depressing realization when I asked the Botox guy if the Botox would clear the wrinkles away and make me look 10 years younger.  He sadly shook his head and said, “We’re talking face-lift for that!”

Uggghhh…face-lift?

I can’t even enjoy my new superficial “facial” because all I can think about is a possible future face-lift.

I know there has to be some kind of happy medium.  I just don’t want to end up like this Mona Lisa.

I mean at some point enough is enough.

Mary 

I wish I had watching the Today Show so I could have seen this little tyke with the Mohawk and tattoo.  It’s not only parental abuse………its visual assault. I am sure that everyone who saw this kiddo probably had to do a double take because of his look…………and as for this future TWIXTER with the mohawk, does he know that he is a bit out of style…that Mohawk was sooo 10 minutes ago…I guess he a little young to recognize his obvious fashion suicide…. they must be parking this little bugger in front of a lot of bad TV.

Since he’s picked his look out all by his little bitty self…was mom sporting a mullet????…and then to hear the mom say he looked like this because “he wanted it”. I am sure he wants to eat a gazillion chocolate chip cookies for breakfast but lets hope that doesn’t mean this mom plunks down the glass of milk to go with them!!

Talk about your attempt at “self-esteem” gone astray…………this mom HAS no clue as to what giant can of worms she has just opened…………here is my take…

……….there is a future homicide (or at least prison time) for ONE of these involved: either the mom, who has now opened the door to having this kiddo do anything and everything that makes him feel good, or the mowhawed-one learning anything he wants he gets.

Mom will finally hit critical mass and take matters into her own strangling hands.  THERE’S a court date. Little junior has already experimented with hair do’s and body art so his next step could be with motorized vehicles, like the one he will probably receive for Christmas topped off with a big red bow - you know the one I mean, those little play cars with big batteries -  mini drivers at the wheel tooling around the neighborhood. Little Mohawk/tattoo boy will want to do more than just cruise around …..he will probably want to knock garbage cans over and then run over kitties… “he wanted to do it”………at this point mom goes nuts, grabs said kiddo, smacks him on the bottom……………….kiddo dials 911 to report on abuse………..mom goes behind bars.   Tyke runs away to a tee-pee.

We remember the few things we actually LET our 3-4 year olds do that would help boost their self-esteem…like let them color outside the lines and not correcting them…………letting them play music with pots and pans and never holding our hands over our ears…………letting the little girls put mommies make up on knowing we could take it off ASAP. This stuff was CHILD’s PLAY compared to the Mohawk and tattoo…………..yikes…….maybe the mom was living vicariously through the kiddo……….she really wanted the Mohawk and tattoo….but knew she just couldn’t pull it off!!…We can only hope.

Lorraine 

*TWIXTERS are basically “young adults” in their late teens and early 20’s who are taking FIVE TO TEN YEARS longer to grow up and become financially independent.  Many of us mid-lifers are part of a generation of parents who have, due to guilt, overindulgence and politically correct nonsense having to do with instilling “self-esteem” in our children, created these TWIXTER monsters and are now stuck with them because we have no idea how to take care of themselves. 

Excuse me, but I am nauseous right now.  Seriously nauseous.  I was just watching the Today Show and Al Roker was outside talking to the crowd.  He came across a mother holding a kid who looked to be between 3 and 4 years old. 

This kid had a MOHAWK with shaved head on either side and a TATTOO (I’m praying, hoping, wishing it’s temporary).  Al Roker asked the mother whose idea it was to shave his head like this?  She said with a BIG PROUD GRIN (this is what was really making me nauseous):  It was HIS idea.  HE WANTED IT. 

This little kid had a very smug look on his face and I was thinking, “Where are the police…there should be lots of police in the middle of NYC…and why aren’t they ARRESTING this mother immediately for Code S&NPD (Stupid & Negligent Parental Decision???).  I’m pretty sure it carries a penalty of up to 3 months in jail and LOTS OF community service as well as about 10 different parenting classes which she and whoever the father is (Let’s hope and pray and wish that there is an active father somewhere here) must attend daily until they get it.  What’s this kid going to do when he’s a teenager?   Has anyone thought of that?  One thing I know is that he’s on the fast track to Twixterdom for sure.

OOOMMMMM….I am like you, …the first yoga class I attended I felt like I was playing a game of Solitary Twister.  Was it ONLY me that was asking silently while looking around for visual direction…..how do I get to that position without looking totally uncoordinated or looking as stiff and confused as an 80 year old??  When it was obvious that I was a novice and was slow on the contortion up-take, I felt some yogatude from my fellow practiced participants.

Terminology was easy to catch on to as long as it was in English…..like “child’s pose” or “down dog”, but once we got to Anjaneyasama I was lost.  And asking me to remember the pose, how to get into the pose and the name of the pose was too much multi-tasking for my stressed-out brain.  I thought taking a Yoga class was supposed to relax my whole being, not make me have to think quickly on my feet as to not humiliate myself and stand out like a “yogeezer”!!

Which brings me to the best part of the Yoga Class……..deep breathing while being flat on my back and releasing every contracted muscle in my body one at a time.  That is when I reach the most critical, appreciated  and important part of the Yoga class……the Yoga Nidra…better known to the amateurs of the group as the five minute NAP. 

I’ll be back for more of THAT!!

Lorraine 

Lorraine and anyone else out there,

Did that study suggest that YOGA is detrimental to your health as well?  I’m hoping so.

I tried a yoga class for the first time this morning.  I thought a little gentle quiet stretching would be a nice way to start the day. 

Where the hell do these people come from?  The contortions, the twisting, the stretching…and that was just my face in disbelief watching the different positions the instructor was demonstrating…and everyone else in the class was doing seemingly effortlessly.

How does one squat down, put your hands on the floor then lift up your legs?  I don’t get it!  Excuse me, but I am not a frog and never intend to be one.

This was not a good way to start my day.  Instead of feeling spiritual and meditative, I walked out of there feeling inferior, clumsy and totally uncoordinated.

And, talk about sore, every muscle in my body is screaming.

Namaste,

Mary 

“You may be shocked to hear that there is an ugly side to extreme fitness.  For women especially, the damage from overtraining can be permanent.

Osteoporosis can make your bones brittle. It usually occurs later in life, buTwho train too hard and eat too little are much more likely to experience osteoporosis even in their twenties. Some women athletes in this age group have actually been found to have bone density similar to an eighty year old.

A common stereotype is the “gym rat”- the woman who focuses so much on weight loss and training that it causes a decline in estrogen levels. This decline is seen when menstruation stops or becomes irregular. Too many women accept this as a sign of successful training, when quite the opposite is true. What is happening is permanent and has lasting repercussions on a woman’s health, making the ability to maintain the same level of activity in later years impossible. You are at risk if you believe “you can never be too thin”. The truth is that even obese women can be fit – and after all, the goal really needs to be health – as determined by you; not society’s perceived notion of the ideal woman”.

Mary, now I feel so much better.  All the pressure is off.  I can breathe a sigh of relief and let go of all the work-out guilt as I enter the gym knowing I never work out hard enough to put my bones at risk or have any effect on the limited amount of estrogen left in my menopausal body.  Now I can be OK with the minimal amount of effort I put forth within my one hour quest to be healthy………….and look with sincere concern  upon all those women who sweat profusely, groan loudly and  have the need  for the defibrillator and Fosomax at the end of their hour…or hours!!

Lorraine 

YES.  This blog is about us and nobody else.  We had a bout with vanity and vanity won.

To be even more specific, Mary looks like a candidate for victim of domestic violence for the month.  She’s been left bruised and swollen, but bottom line, she looks YOUNGER and bruised and swollen as opposed to older, wrinkled and victim-less.  She couldn’t be happier.

Goody goody Lorraine looks perfect.  Isn’t that speciaaaall? 

We love our results but are seriously questioning our sanity at paying big bucks for self-inflicted torture and pain.

We felt like we’d been abducted by aliens, put under the bright lights and poked and prodded.  Our doctor, who looks a lot like the statue David (this made the whole thing a lot easier!), had a constant yet mischievous smile on his face as he dug those needles deep into our “nasolabials” (sounds like a private part) assuring us we would walk out completely satisfied.

We knew we were in good hands when we looked around at his staff who looked like they had walked off a cover shoot for Cosmopolitan.

It was indeed a party atmosphere.  There were fresh strawberries, chocolate, and cheese and crackers, and wine upon request.    Too bad we were too numb from the numbing cream to enjoy it.  What a tease.  These people are sadistic and yet there was a room full of ladies waiting for the same treatment we had just been handed.

While we stood at the counter waiting to empty our bank accounts, the whole room became a love fest.  The talk became wanting to know the dirty details of who had what done and who was waiting to have what done. It was like a bachelor party without the strippers, although we got the feeling that could be provided if the demand was made.

That room full of ladies and ourselves were all willing, compliant and eager to have anything done to make us look younger.

Gloria Steinem would have been ashamed.

Although, we saw her on CNN the other day, and she looked suspiciously good.

Now we’re noticing every woman on the street, on TV and movies, nodding her heads knowingly that they too “had work” done.

Our husbands are scratching their heads and we don’t care.

“We have one eye in the mirror as we watch ourselves gavotte.”

Lorraine and Mary 

This is a first.  We’re in Colorado together spending a couple of days working on our upcoming soon-to-be-seen HUMOR VIDEO starring…US.   The thought of having our faces plastered on a website has brought us to our arthritic knees.

To get prepared, we are willing to admit that we have wrinkles, lines and folds that need our immediate attention and in saying so, today we have a trip to the Skin Miracle Worker AKA Botox Doc.

We’re not only doing this for the good of our fellow middle-agers, but we’re doing it because we’re desperate—we just looked in the mirror with our reading glasses.  It wasn’t pretty.

Because of our humanitarian selflessness, we’re even going so far as to video “BEFORE” pictures for the entire world to see.  We’re having a “come to Jesus” meeting about our fears about our faces.  Not to mention, our fears of NEEDLES, BRUISES, SCABS AND LIFE-TIME SCARS.  All due to vanity.

And especially…we don’t want to look like Joan Rivers.

We’ll keep you updated.  We have to start drinking, taking Xanax, and putting on numbing cream.

Lorraine and Mary