F.U. I Like Me

I’ve been netflixing this show and somewhere in the middle of Season 2 or the beginning of Season 3, the lead actress did so much stuff to her face, fillers, boxtox, and g** knows what else, that she couldn’t move her face; it was puffy and stiff, and all her beauty was GONE.

She could no longer portray emotion. In an effort to attempt to portray contempt or curiosity or affection (I have no idea what the hell she was trying to portray because her face was thick and frozen) she began moving her head in strange reptilian lifts and jerks.

I almost gave up watching the show.

I’m all for doing what makes YOU feel better. But not for what you think makes others like you more.

I’m assuming she did that to keep up with the status quo, compete with the younger actresses, with other actors, who knows.

On my visit to the dermatologist, the nurse said, “we can probably get some botox through your insurance.”

I said, “I don’t think I really need it.”

“Oh, really?” She spoke somewhere between condescension and disbelief. Maybe she’d never heard that particular line of confidence before.

As my grandma used to say – I worked hard for these damn wrinkles!

And, personally, I like to move my face. I want to raise an eyebrow when someone says something weird. I want to smile when I’m happy. And, mostly, I want to make funny faces with my grandson!

When the mini-photo-shoot for new headshots got too serious  РI got silly. And I liked it.

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For all the guys who tried to make me feel not good enough

and all the girls who gossip(ed) behind my back

and those people who don’t like themselves and try to make everyone else miserable

 

FUCK YOU

 

I LIKE ME!

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New Year! New You? New Me – as in the website.¬† I won’t be writing about writing – I might sometimes¬† – but mostly I just want to write about joy. Expect some purpose, some passion, some joy.

 

Oh yeah – one of my books will be on sale this weekend. Not sure which one, I’ll keep you posted. In the meantime, try Grandma’s Last Secret or Harvey Levin Can’t Die