Ten years ago, those little "laugh lines" around my eyes and mouth amused me. I thought how interesting they were and how mature and happy I looked. Now those "laugh lines" look like crevasses a mountain climber would have trouble with and I would be laughing all the way to the plastic surgeon if only I could afford one.
I've never been fat but I've never been svelte, either. I am fair-skinned and if I had a tendency toward chunkiness I would remind myself of the "Poppin' Fresh" boy on television. In fact, I DO get
hungry for biscuits every time I see myself naked, but now I look like the Poppin' boy who's been left on the counter a little too long and is beginning to melt hither and yon.
In truth, I always have wanted to put that cheerful little guy in the oven and bake
him at 400 degrees. It seems that cellulite has mercifully passed me by, but gravity sure as heck hasn't.
The worst thing about the aging process for me is my
mind. I am only 41 years old for heaven's sake and I'm already having trouble remembering phone numbers, vice presidents' names and dates. If I were in a car accident and was completely unscathed, medical personnel would still life flight me to a hospital if they asked me what day it was and who was second-in-command to the president.
Even my boyfriend thinks I'm really affectionate when I call him "Honey" and "Sweetie" but in truth, half the time
I can't remember his name.
"Maturing" in its own way can be cruel when one passes a mirror or needs to make a phone call, but I'm more than willing to cover the mirrors and carry around a phone book because, as they say, aging generally beats the alternative.
So here's to another New Year and 40 more!
>> CARYN E.A. GEORGE is an Ocotillo resident who works for the county Office of Education.