I remember when my medicine chest was full of fun stuff like perfume,
eyeliner, and Rolling Stones concert tickets I was hiding from my parents. Today though, it's mostly full of
lotions and creams with the phrase "anti-aging" somewhere on the label (usually
it's the only thing in a type size I can read).
There in the right hand corner next to my hair
mousse (I use mousse instead of spray because saying "mousse" makes me feel hip)
are two bottles of stuff, one that guarantees to "reduce the signs of aging by
61% in one week" and one that guarantees "84% more youthful skin in three
days." The question is: if I mix
the two, can I actually turn back time and look like I did in a previous
life? Maybe when I was
Cleopatra?
My math skills may be a little rusty, but here's the equation I came up
with to figure this out. In one
week, I should be 61% + 84% +84% + (84% divided by 3) = 257% younger than before
I rubbed on either of the creams. Let's say for argument's sake that I'm
50. (I will deny that on a stack of
anti-aging product instructions in a court of geriatric law). A 257% reduction in my age would be, uh...
okay... I'm stuck. It's probably an imaginary number. Those
always stumped me. My best guess is
that I'd be minus 67 and a half years old.
Does that sound right to you?
I'm probably too young to be driving yet. Much less drinking my
lunch.
The problem is - I mean besides my inability to do higher level math -
for the past month I have been mixing these two anti-aging products together,
along with five others that guarantee other kinds of results (from "Regain your
youthful complexion" to "We promise you'll never see your mother in the
mirror!"). Remarkably, I haven't
noticed any real changes of any kind.
I still have laugh lines, frown lines, and carry-on bags under my eyes.
I'm just happy I don't have to pay
extra for them when I check in at the airport.
When I look at my face closely in the mirror
(which I do in lieu of watching summer reality shows), I don't see anything at
all. At least not until I take off
my contact lenses so I can see that close up. Then I see pores the size of
potholes. But that's only because I
have to use one of those magnifying mirrors that makes everything look ten times
bigger than it is. I tried holding
the magnifying mirror up to my checkbook one day hoping it would have the same
effect. It didn't.
When my face finally does come into focus, I can
see some patches of dry flaky skin, a broken capillary on the side of my nose
that showed up after my last two-week cold, the scar where I jumped from my high
chair as a toddler, a few extra layers of peach fuzz above my lip, etc. It's the face of a woman who has been
there, done that, and laughed, frowned, and squinted her way through it
all.
I don't expect miracles from the miracle products
in my medicine cabinet. I know that
no matter what type of math I use, even in the metric system my face is pretty
much my face, no matter what I put on it.
But I would like to be able to smear on a cream and say truthfully, "I
think I see a 22% reduction in fine lines around my mouth this morning." Especially considering that of these
bottles recently reduced my weekly income by more than 22%.
My husband has an explanation for why my
anti-aging stuff isn't doing its job.
He thinks that rather than working together to increase the number of
years I can wipe off the face of my face, the mixed products are counteracting
one another. In his math, by adding
the 61% cream to the 84% cream, I actually should look 23% older. But my rule is: never trust a man with
math.
I guess I should just choose one and see how good
of a job it does on its own. But
how would I spend my free time?
Hey, I wonder what would happen if I mixed his Rogaine with my
Nair...
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