is a single mama in the city, super-savvy editor, writer, video host and shameless shoe whore.
Are you wearing your divorce?
Thursday, April 16, 2009 Good news! Not only does divorce show up in a big, fat fucking bill for attorney's fees, it also shows up on your face. Hooray! I just love that once I took off the wedding rings, I added two years to my face.
Make that -- added two years to my smiling face.
I am not willing to disclose sure that my divorce has resulted in wrinkles, but I do know that I never expected my settlement to include such stress skin. I do not love talking about this stuff but since my laser guy told me that I wore too much make-up (remember the guy with the wild ear hairs? yeah, him with the cosmetics advice), it has really been...well, out there.
I've been trying to balance out the loveliness I got with the television and wedding china by changing make-up completely, by not applying the new make-up with a sander and spackling paste, going back to my Ayurvedic oils and essences, drinking more water and sleeping absolutely as few hours as possible. The lack of rest isn't doing much, but the other stuff seems...OK.
And so it seems time to get serious. Thank goodness a new friend, one of the preschool moms who I now lovingly call The Raunchy Mommies, now works at a med spa in the 'burbs. Her skin, which is all glowy perfection, is the best commercial ever for facial overhaul.
So to celebrate my birthday (Saturday, yeah!), I've made an appointment next week at her med spa for a microdermabrasion and peel combo. Two years ago -- before my divorce and apparently the two extra years that study says I get for keeps -- I never would have thought I'd be so excited to shoot little crystals into my pores and then burn off the top layer of my skin. But I am. I really am.
I may not leave my home for days* (sorry, Carrie Bradshaw, you will have to go it alone at your book launch party!), but I'm determined to keep my soon-to-be perfect chin up and face the next year (or would that be 1.8?) with a face that has nothing to do with you-know-who.
Get ready, friends! Pretty soon, I am going to scorch those years off of my forehead and all that will remain is one hot divorcee. If we meet, just promise you'll pretend it's a sunburn from hours and hours of single life fabulousness and frolicking.
In the meantime, I've told Lil E that I am turning 22 and that his father is much, much older. And you know what? If that's how this divorce skin thing really works, if you hurl it at each other with karmic delight, then maybe he is looking that way (too).
* I've been assured I won't be relegated to my home, but will need loads of sunscreen and should try not to wash my face for 24-48 hours. That, incidentally, means I will not be leaving my home.
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