Eyelift

When I was a teenager, I had a habit of being very, VERY, convicted about issues that I was not educated enough or old enough to understand. One of the issues was plastic surgery. If we are made in God's image, getting plastic surgery (unless you underwent a severe facial trauma) was like telling God that he is ugly! I decided long ago I would never have any type of plastic surgery done. Fast forward to today. If my looks fall off, I want every plastic surgeon in Atlanta to tap dance on my face! Plastic surgery would not be ideal, but I have been thinking about it a lot since I think that I need an eyelift. 

I have always had straight, poofy eyelids. This is something called monolid (which I just found out now as I am writing this post). Essentially, I do not have the crease that separates my eyelid into two parts. For those of you who can't envision this, I do not have that part of my eyelid where women usually put on eye shadow. I guess I do, but it is very, very thin. Many Asian people have this type of eyelid, hence why people have asked me if I am partially Asian my whole life! 

The other day, I looked in the mirror and felt like my lids were looking a little more poof than usual. I had spent the weekend babysitting and did not have restful sleep. However, when they were still poofy the next day, I became fearful. Since I don't have a substantial eye crease, what if my eyes eventually poof shut and I have to keep my lids open with my hands?

As silly as this sounded, I became obsessed with my eyes. Is it possible to become a super poof and not be able to see? I really began to panic! And then a word came to mind that calmed my nerves: eyelift. Yes, an eyelift! A simple, medical miracle! And I don't mean putting some lotion on my lids that should lift them in a year or two, I mean good old-fashioned scalpel magic! And if I don't have the money for it, I will use invisible tape to lift my lids as close to my hairline as possible. 

Wheeeeew! Crisis averted. 

Let's Face It

At the risk of sounding vain I am just going to go ahead and say it: I want to look cute forever. And at the risk of sounding full of myself I am just going to say this: I don't even want to live in a world where I am not adorable. Having been the biggest girl in the room for my whole life, my million dollar face has been the one thing that has gotten me a seat at the couple of tables I have been invited to. You would think my personality would be the show winner but, believe it or not, a lot of people don't take to loud overweight girls that enjoy having open and honest conversations about vaginal hygiene at the dinner table. Go figger. 

Where is this all coming from? Well, I have talked to you all before about how worried I have been about my skin since I turned 30. Gone are the days of me having an effortless complexion. My pores are getting larger, and I need a moisturizer like a fat kid needs cake. On social media, girls that I went to high school and college with are looking ten years younger than they did when I met them. And since I am not ashamed to admit that my face is the one good thing I have going for me you know, outside of my brain, I can't afford to let it go. Let's be honest,  I let my body go in the 3rd grade happily and without effort once I started wearing a bra. Since I am not really excited about getting things injected into my face or having appearance altering surgery, I have to keep this face tight and right. 

Tortilla has great skin, but she uses those trillion buck Korean skin potions you can order from Sephora. I am currently using a scrub that I got out of a gift bag. I like it though, it smells like sweet potatoes! But it is going to take more than sweet potatoes to keep my skin on the up-and-up. I watched a Youtube nighttime skincare tutorial that included seven products, so I guess I have to step it up. I guess I was naive for assuming I could keep my face from cracking off of shower gel and Vaseline. 

At this moment, I would just like to express how pissed I am at men. They can look like something the cat dragged in and women will still be beating their doors down as long as they have a good paying job and health insurance. What is a poor girl like me to do? Home chemical peels with hot bacon grease and a plastic knife?

Well, I guess there is nothing left to do but enjoy my face while it is still here. Beyonce said that pretty hurts, but she forgot to tell us that it also fades. But there will be no fading over here, not yet, as long as I have my bacon grease. 

The Friendtervention: How To Get A Man

At times I do get lonely and wish that I had a boyfriend. There, I said it. But I am 32-years-old and I refuse to go on any dating apps or put on a mini dress and hang out outside of the men's room, so the chips are going to have to fall where they may. Over the years, I have become extremely relaxed when it comes to "finding" a man. Call me a product of the Disney generation, but I just figure that one will pop up when he is supposed to. My old roommate from college had no problem with telling me that this is a joke and, over the phone, performed a mild friendtervention.

"Holly, you are in Atlanta, the Mecca. There is no reason why you should not have a man!" she said. This made me laugh. Women who are not from Atlanta always say crazy stuff like this.
"So what do you suggest I do?" I asked sarcastically. Little did I know, she actually had some ideas.
"The first thing that you need to do is get your hair flat ironed. Men like long hair." I shook my head no silently as she spoke. She went on to say that my afro was big, so my hair would probably be really long. She also said that straightening my hair would show men that I "take myself seriously."
The next thing that she suggested that I do was start wearing false lashes. Sigh. I have no desire to put anything false near my eyeballs. I know that false lashes are popular. I mean, come on, I live in
Atlanta, which I bet you dollars to donuts is the fake lashes capital. Some look nice, but I have also known lash victims personally who are currently living devoid of their natural lashes with scarred eyelids damaged by cheap lash glue. But, according to my friend, men don't want a woman who doesn't have falsies.
Now, the last thing that she suggested made me laugh. She said that I should get a microdermabrasion. "Are you telling me that there are men out there that are refusing to date women because they don't get microdermabrasions?" I demanded.
She said no. But that I needed to get my face peeled off because the procedure would make my complexion brighter.
I could tell that she really believed in these steps, so I decided not to make any smart remarks. However, I did talk to a colleague the next day and, to my surprise, she was in agreement with these "steps".
"Are you serious?!" I exclaimed.
"Listen, men are visual creatures!" she defended.
Dear friends, I may be too far gone, because I have to be perfectly honest: I don't care what type of creatures men are. I asked both friends if they believed that the love of your life will find you, regardless of what you look like because you are meant to be. They both said no. Apparently, it all boils down to how you look. I hope that isn't the case, but if it is, I'm up shit's creek without a paddle. I don't put heat on my hair and my God-given itty bitty lashes will have to do. If that means I will have to single, oh well.
#2old2care