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I have an appointment to get my hair cut this afternoon and I can’t decide if I should let it grow a bit, cut it shorter and shag it out, or what.  So over the weekend I decided to browse some celebrity sites to check out trends in hair.  I am not going to bring in yet another photo of Katie Holmes for my hairdresser to groan over, but you know, I figure celebs have access to the best hair people on the planet, so idea shopping I go!

This morning I woke up in a bit of a twist.  Partially because it’s MONDAY! and waking up in a twist is just par for the course.  But partly because I’ve been simmering on the images I saw yesterday.  What is up with all the surgery, collagen and botox?

I know this is not new, but it’s now got a firm grip on women in my age group (late 30s and early 40s).  I look to these women - with access to stylists, world-class makeup artists and hair dressers, and all the best fashion money can buy - to be role models for looking great at this age.  This is what I get?

Meg Ryan doesn’t look like Meg Ryan anymore.  Nicole Kidman has yet to form a wrinkle, that’s just WRONG!  And don’t get me started on Melanie Griffith. 

I’ve never been one to care too much about such things.  In my group of friends I was always the one more likely to have my nose in a book than to be out shopping.  I am not materialistic or overly concerned about my appearance, but I do understand that maintenance is required.  Looking my best gives me confidence and so forth, I have to remind myself that it’s not an entirely shallow exercise.  It’s part of feeling good, part of the whole system that creates self image and confidence. 

I admit to using skin care products that promise to minimize the appearance of wrinkles.  I’m guilty of spending way too much money on cosmetics (and then rarely using them!  LOL) I admit that I would really really like to get my 22 year old body back, so I watch what I eat and exercise and dream of fitting into a pair of skinny jeans again as motivation.

But I draw the line at cosmetic procedures.  Some of my friends are starting in on this already, secret botox treatments and so forth.  In a way I admire people who give a shit this much, I just.  Don’t.  Also, I don’t know WHY there is anything wrong with looking 37 when you are 37.  What is wrong with 37?  It’s way better than 24, man I was a bundle of confusion, insecurity and stress back then; trying to sort out who I am and what I wanted out of life and how to get it was a full time job.

I’ve survived all of that, and a few wrinkles is nothing more than proof of that. I have earned every laugh and frown line, it’s what makes a 37 year old face interesting, and dare I say, sexy.  I am not saying there is anything wrong with a little maintenance, or even surgery if that’s what it takes for you to feel good.  But I resent that hollywood redefines age in this way.  Before, it was all about being THIN.  Now, it’s being thin and not having a sag, bag or wrinkle too.  Wow, that’s a LOT of work. 

Personally, I want to enjoy my middle aged years doing things like traveling, learning new things, contributing more to my community and the world.  I don’t want to spend all my extra money and time on chemical peels and collagen.  I suppose that means I’ll lose my looks much faster than those that prioritize such things, but at this point I don’t really care that much. I can’t see myself except when I’m looking in the mirror anyway. 

Anyway.  This is a note to people who take this stuff to the extreme:

1) You don’t look like Angelina, you look like The Joker. 
2) Just because you don’t have wrinkles doesn’t mean you look like you’re 20.  You just look like an oddly unwrinkled 40 year old.
3) Baggy eyes are more attractive than whatever perpetually surprised alien creature you’re modeling yourself after now.

That is all.

I’ve been following a strict vegetarian diet for going on a month now.  It actually has been really easy, and I feel great.  I can only describe it as something that “fits” for me.  I don’t miss eggs, dairy or meat whatsoever.  This?  Came as quite a shock.

I’ve lost a few pounds, nothing monumental, but more importantly - I haven’t gained any weight.  No more confusion, no more roller coaster.  It’s not “a diet”, as much as it is a way of making choices about food.  (BTW, my skin looks better, not sure what that’s about, but I’m loving that a whole lot.) I now know that to achieve weight loss, though, I need to work out way more than I do now.  And I need to lay off the fats - nuts, vegannaise, avocado, french fries - and pay more attention to calories.  Hey, I made a big transition and you can’t go from eating Taco Bell to eating nothing but beans and blueberries overnight.  Even in a vegan diet, calories count.  And you CAN be a fat, unhealthy vegetarian, let’s bust that myth right there. 

Speaking of Taco Bell, for the first time in weeks I’ve had a strong craving for something that is not vegan, and that is, TACO BELL!  I am dying for a bean burrito with sour cream, an order of nachos supreme and a taco supreme with an extra large diet pepsi.  Now you tell me how I’m supposed to substitute a meal like that with tofu alternatives?!! 

I just had to blog that out man.  I will be strong, I will.  Maybe it’s because I kept saying, “Yo Quiero Taco Bell” all day yesterday, it sunk in to my subconscious.  En Espanol no less. 

Pardon me, I’m cranky. 

But why is it that people have such a hard time understanding the Alaska time zone?  I don’t mean as a rule, I mean people that you explain it to.  Like your friends and family that live out of state who may wish to call you on a Saturday morning.

You’re used to four time zones, right?  Eastern, Central, Mountain, Pacific.  These are the time zones in the contiguous United States (we call it “the lower 48").  Then as we move further west, TWO MORE STATES!  So there’s Alaska time zone and Hawaii time zone. 

If you start in New York at noon, moving west, Minneapolis is 11am, Denver is 10am, Los Angeles is 9am.  It’s a pattern of subtracting one hour as you move west from one zone to another.  Yes there’s math involved, and yes there’s a certain degree of memorizing the borders of the zones, but major cities should not be a problem.  It’s not trig, it’s subtraction.  I KNOW first grade was a long time ago, but come on.

Alaska? This is where it gets tricky, apparently.  Move one more time zone over, one more hour.  New York noon, Anchorage 8am. Seattle 9am, Anchorage still 8am. 

Hawaii is a bit trickier, they’re a two hour jump behind from Alaska.  And if you’re in Indiana or Arizona, you’ve got all kinds of crazy going on but even people that live there get confused.  Alaska?  EASY. 

Sometimes people get it backward, and think we’re ahead of them.  We’re always behind you, no matter if it’s daylight savings time or if there’s a lunar eclipse we’re always west of you (unless you live in Hawaii, in which case, need a new friend?) So I’ve had people WAKE UP EARLY, and call me at 7am their time to catch me at midday.  No, you’re catching me at 3 o’clock in the morning, but a fine effort indeed.

The fact that we’re behind everybody in the lower 48 means I can’t read blogs until American Idol is over, maybe that’s what I should tell people, I think people could really wrap their brain around the American Idol analogy. 

Long story short, when it’s 10am on a Saturday morning in Toledo, Ohio, mathematically speaking, IT IS TOO EARLY TO CALL BRIAN TO TALK ABOUT GOLF.  Thank you.  Going back to bed now.

Have a lovely weekend everybody. 

Hurray!  Pop open the bubbly. 

Neighbor A and I went for a walk tonight and found Trouble’s owners.  His real name is Chaos.  I was SO CLOSE.  lol

It was a pretty anti-climactic end to a strange day, but all’s well that ends well.  The Animal Control shelter told them that they didn’t have a dog matching his description, which really pisses me off.  Why do you have a FOUND BOOK and FOUND REPORTS if you don’t check those?  Sheesh.  EEdiots.

Also, the flyer that I put up right across the street from these people’s house was gone.  So now I sort of look like an asshole walking around with their dog (even though I was out walking him AGAIN to see if I could find people who knew him), and felt like I had to explain and justify my whole day.  Neighbor A did too, and tried to make a point in letting them know I wasn’t poaching their dog and had gone to great lengths to make sure if somebody was looking, he could be found.  Gah.  I may just be overtired, but neighbor A was feeling the same vibe.  Just, sorta ... ODD.  Like, that if it were one of OUR dogs, we would have reacted differently. Yunno?

Wonder if I made a mistake in taking him in the first place, he lived right next to where I found him.  Me Feel Like A-hole.    But they did make a point to say that he must have gotten out sometime last night and they weren’t aware of when that happened and so forth, and that he JUST lost his tag, too.  They thanked me, and seemed to love the little guy and all that jazz. 

End of the day, I was TRYING to do the right thing by the dog, not the owners.  And it all worked out. 

I am 110% relieved. 

But now?  I am thinking I want to start seriously looking for a dog of my own.  One that I’m not allergic to and stuff.

So, I think I’ve done what I can today for this dog.  Vet, Animal Control, Flyers, Craigslist, Neighbors.  Check. 

He definitely has a bum knee joint, which happens with small dogs who are allowed to jump up and down on things.  He tried to jump on my bed but it must be MUCH higher than the one he’s used to, he met that thing with a noble force but fell squarely on his rump.  I am starting to worry that he was dumped, surgery is expensive.  He needs to be neutered and a good old fashioned claw clipping and who knows what else.  Why do I have a bad feeling about this? 

He’s pretty classic Chihuahua, I think I’ve already been pegged as “his human” - he’s quiet and well behaved except when he’s being protective.  He’s scrappy as hell with the neighbor dogs (blood hound, pit and lab) who didn’t pay him much mind at all.  My arms are all scraped up trying to prevent him from flying through the air at them.

He answers well to Trouble (poor thing) and doesn’t like it much when I say the “Yo Quiero Taco Bell?” joke over and over again.

Now, I wait.  What a long day.  Perhaps it calls for merlot.  TGIF everyone, thank you for your support today.