"My career history has been nothing short of interesting.  I started out wanting to become a nun.  Yes, a nun. But, when I realized I’d have to be Catholic, well, it kind of put the kibosh on it.  My hard-shell Southern Baptist family would have all simultaneously swooned, AND turned over in their respective graves.  Still, I look awfully good in black.

So, I did the next best thing, I became an accountant; then a commercial actress; then a sculptor; then a painter; then a graphic and web designer (ever notice how everyone and their brother has been a web designer?), and finally came back, full circle, to accounting. 

In between these various incarnations, I wrote, a lot, and managed to have a couple things published. 

Without a doubt, writing has been my salvation, my friend, my muse, my lifelong love, and will continue to be, unless of course, I can find a man."

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Not Always a Good Thing

Stress

Botox by D. Gustafson Illustration by D. Adams

A year ago, my friend admitted she was receiving botox injections. She then proceeded to tell me that botox is rat poison. I thought she had taken total and complete leave of her senses.   I mean, come on. First of all that stuff  paralyses your face, plus they poke needles all around your eyes!!!

If I've learned one thing in my life, it's that if I scoff at something, sure as fire, I end up eating my words. Or in this case, getting needles stuck in my face. 

Here's what happened. I found this place that had a lot of "anti-aging" references in their literature.  Hey, I'm against aging, so why not?  Off I went.  The doctor's office had kind of a Buddhist temple feel, with New Age-y mystical music playing in the background, the sort that  instantly puts you at ease.

The receptionist was on of "those" women.  You've seen them, ...perfect skin, hair, body. And then, just to make me hate her even more, she was genuinely nice! How rotten can a person be? 

The doctor's assistant came out, introduced herself, explained the procedure, and smeared some numbing cream on my forehead and around my eyes. Ten minutes later I was in the procedure room, with the dearest, sweetest doctor I've ever met. For me to gush with "dear", "sweet" adjectives, especially in relation to a doctor, well, it's an oddity.  I hate them all.

He very patiently explained what was going to happen, then, very slowly and gently, began the injections - over and between my eyebrows, at the outside of my eyes...and get this...one injection in the skin beneath each eye!   Did it hurt? Childbirth hurts. Initially, it was annoying, then towards the end, a little uncomfortable. The ones that hurt the most were at the ends of my eyebrows. All in all he must have given me ten or twelve injections. He told me that I would see some changes the following morning, but the full effect  wouldn't be apparent for a couple of days.

So, how did I look? Fantastic. The change wasn't drastic by any means, but just enough. I looked rested and fresh.   About that paralyzing thing, I could still move my face. Admittedly, my eyebrows didn't move much, but everything else worked just fine. 

It really gets my panties all bunched up  when comedians go on about Cher, cracking jokes about the truckloads of botox she must have pumped into her face. She's certainly had her share of work done, but so what? If you think back, she's always been sort of deadpan. It's Cher, not the botox.

Would I do it again? I have. Three times.