23 February 2010

i just found out

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Cristina Fernández de Kirchner, President of Argentina, is exactly the same age I am. It makes me feel like an underachiever... and explains why she wears ten pounds of makeup and dyes her hair....

Personally, I try to accentuate my gray hair. The only thing awful about it is that it's coarser and wirier than my other hair and the blend is pretty much of a catastrophe to make coöperate with a chic haircut. On top of this, the thyroid hormone seems finally to have slowed the breaking off of so much hair and most of it growing back is only a couple inches long and wiry gray, sticking out of the rest of it at random right angles. The lady who cuts my hair refuses to shave my head. Don't want a pixie cut again because you go broke trying to keep it cute and it is HELL growing it out. There's at least a year where you can't do squat with it that looks presentable unless you can afford to do extensions.

So, anyway, as the space aliens were pouring their essence into the ear of my just-born human host, Cristina was tumbling forth from her mother down there in Argentina.... The photographers LOVE to catch her flipping her hair or preening, adjusting her baubles, engaging in her vanity thing, and I guess she deserves it, but if you think aging is hell, try to imagine a babe aging... not in the Hollywood sense... in just the ordinary human sense. Your entire life you are inundated with comments about your looks, your attractiveness, men just NEVER give you a moment's peace and then suddenly everything that was, against your will, the contents of each and every day, even when you stunk from trying to observe the shower schedule in a drought, just stops happening.

It's not liberating. It's disorienting. There's visceral unease, a vague nagging that everything is NOT okay.

I was prepared. I thought of it early. I got VERY good at deflecting that attention before it reached me, long before it got to the point where there probably is little or no need, but, obviously, Cristina didn't. So, now, Señora Presidente scrambles to hold on to the attention to the part of her that matters least.

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