Get up and face the world

So, much like every morning, I haul my ass out of bed at an ungodly hour to make sure I am at the gym by 5:45 a.m. when the doors open. Like a highly trained gerbil in a stationary wheel, I complete my run through the gauntlet to the cheese at the end (for those of you who don't speak in metaphors, I worked out). My goal is to increase my muscle tone, as I kind of slacked off for most of December and part of November. Anyhow, I digress.

I survive another morning at the gym, and return home to get ready for work. As I am preparing myself, I become conscious of the once seemingly so important - yet for today seemingly ridiculous and gratuitous - routine I go through every morning.

Shower, wash face, brush teeth, apply first moisturizer, eye cream, second moisturizer, firming gel, cover-up, and makeup ... Reading it, I cannot believe it's true.

This morning, my declaration is that I will no longer continue the uphill battle against time and aging. I will no longer be a slave to Mary Kay and other products which promise to make me look younger and "take 10 years off" ... I want huge laugh lines around my eyes and mouth - so significant that people will compare them to maps of fault lines in Northern California. I want people to look at my face and say, "Maybe not so pretty, but from those lines you can tell she's had a good time in life." I want lines so big, I can hide pocket change in them.

When I grow old, I want to be one of those eccentric old ladies with jowls like a basset hound and a wonderfully loud, hoarse laugh. I want to be the old lady in the care home who everyone comments on how full of life and how fun she is.

That being said, my declaration to the world and its ungodly standards of beauty is, "Screw you, I only need ONE moisturizer, eye cream, firming gel, cover-up and make-up ... Two moisturizers are gratuitous and unnecessary, unless my skin is looking particularly dull in which case I will need a second moisturizer, some exfoliant and maybe some aloe cream to clear up the blotchiness after the exfoliant or unless I have a big meeting, dinner plans, a date or some other social engagement that involves interacting with people close up and in person. I refuse to be a slave to what THEY say is pretty. I much prefer to beat myself up and critically examine every inch of what I have determined to be flaws in my skin. I do not need the help of any marketing firm, corporation or celebrity telling me how I could be prettier. Screw you, world, screw you."

Cecelia Foley, 30, lives in Norwood and is prone to randomly commenting on things without thought of consequence or remembrance of what she said.