As my eyes range greedily over my face, I feel an almost sickening sense of hope as I begin a cosmic bargaining that rarely ends well in Greek mythology: Please, please, just give me a few years in this hypnotic limbo, and I promise I’ll be more accepting of this whole age thing.
My mother is right: It is painful to fade from public view, and it’s a potent hit of the crack pipe to discover that it’s entirely possible to slowly, steadily wind the clock backward. As my eyes range greedily over my face, I feel an almost sickening sense of hope as I begin a cosmic bargaining that rarely ends well in Greek mythology: Please, please, just give me a few years in this hypnotic limbo, and I promise I’ll be more accepting of this whole age thing. I keep thinking of Dr. Macrene’s promise to zap away my jowls. “You’ll have your mandible back!” she said. I would give anything to glance down at my smartphone and not stifle a scream when I see the mocking reflection of my marionette lines.