Beauty is in the EYE of the beholder?...hope not!

     Aghhhh!!  I think I might cry...I think I'm getting a lazy eye! No offense to those of you born with such additions of 'character' - but my eye seems to be a taking on this new trait 3o years in.  Pretty easy to NOT be ok with that.

     Am I just noticing it because I'm still experiencing jet lag from my trip overseas?  Is it the Botox?  Have those expensive little toxins found their way down to my lids  in an attempt to teach me a lesson on frugality and accepting the affects of aging? Is it my subconscious trying to tell me to look at life with only 'one eye open' cause it just looks better that way?  Whatever it is - I hate it!

     Like I don't already have enough to worry about as far as what I see in the mirror.  My poor eyebrows are as sparse as they come.  But I will say that defect -  I'm pretty sure is my mom's fault.  When I had to wear a patch (yes...an EYE patch like a freakin' pirate....arghhh!... and I was chubby...and I had freckles!!!) because of my astigmatism it was actually on the WRONG eye for 6 months before it got switched to the correct eye.  (How that went on for so long I'll never know!)  So BOTH eyebrows had the opportunity to experience the 'quick' (it hurts less...ummm..actually NO it doesn't!) rip of tape that took half my brow with it.  So about 5 years ago in an attempt (again following sweet Mammie's advice) to help the brows out I got them tattooed on.  Yeah it looked great...until the tattoo turned orange!!!  You probably think I'm the only one that noticed the discoloration...wrong!  People...many people, have actually asked me why I color my eyebrows in with an orange pen.  I'll admit it's one of the few times my face reddens with embarrassment!

   Then I've got all these pre-cancer spots dotting up my face.  Gotta admit I love a homemade beauty mark...but these things ain't pretty.  Especially when I orange tan - that just brightens 'em up a notch!  I've already had one Basal Cell removed and was left a lovely scar on my nose.  The dermatologist actually wanted to remove another potential Basal Cell on the tip of my nose with another Moh's surgery.  I through defiant tears said, "No - wait till I'm freaking married.  Then scar me up all you want.  Not doing it now!"  I love my mom and all...but she sure screwed me when it came to inheriting her fair skin.

  With a birthday around the corner I'm beginning to wonder how one learns to 'age gracefully.'  Is there really such a thing? My eyeball with a mind of it's own thinks not.

PS: If you happen to ever watch this phenomenon momentarily transform my face...please don't stare.  Just pray for me.  Pray.