My mom has the best attitude about aging. I am constantly in a state of panic about getting old, mostly due to sheer vanity, and she will tell me "Well, it's better than the other option." I can see the truth in that, but as the days start to fly by I am struck by how repulsed I am at getting really old.
The commercial that nearly brought me to tears was one for a trans-vaginal mesh. The part of me that wants to believe I am young wanted to make a nasty joke, the part of me that knows I will live to be ninety-nine was wondering if I should start a savings jar for that surgery immediately. Did you know your vag needs to be held up by foreign material after a certain point? Yea, me either. It was the worse news I had heard since learning that my husband's balls will one day reach his knees. It's happening, ladies. Start marking his thigh now so you can watch the natural progression of his nut sack from between his thighs to around his ankles. I knew the outside of my body would age, I've had grandparents. They were soft and wrinkly and all around wonderful. What they never told me was that the inside of your body is deteriorating at the same rate and that your insides have no where to go but down. Think about that for a minute....mesh holding in your privates. NO FUCKING WAY!! I plan to invent a better option. Super tight rubber panties, a vag sling that doubles as suspenders, or perhaps a wheelchair that has a elevated crotch area for those in need of some between the legs support.
One of the other issues I lose sleep over are my teeth. Teeth make me crazy...good teeth and bad. I am more likely to describe someone by their teeth than their skin color, body size or facial hair.
Me: "Remember that guy at the bar the other night, the one with gangly teeth?"
My Sister: "You mean that cute guy with dreads? He was really nice."
Me: "Did you see his teeth? Damn. I didn't know he had dreads. Weird."
This leads us to old person teeth, also known as dentures. My second worst nightmare. My great-grandma had dentures and while I never noticed them as a kid, I did notice the weird cup on the bathroom sink set up and waiting for something to soak. Denture cup. Gummy kisses and soft food. I just can't accept the fact that one day I would wake up next to my husband and look like my face had been sucked in through my mouth. Shear vanity. I have heard of younger folks who had drug problems or face-to-curb issues and have had to get dentures. That would make me manic. What if you forget to glue your teeth in? What if you have a one night stand and wake up next to some dude who suddenly has no teeth? I guess breakfast is out.
I know I will get old and simply because I detest the idea of being a hundred years old, I will be one day. The Universe will feel an overwhelming desire to smash my self-confidence and force me to love the parts of aging that I can't yet wrap my mind around. At which point, I will discontinue the use of mirrors.
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