My sister and I were in a mood again this morning.  We always put on some silly movie we have and laugh or sing along with it.  This mornings selection is Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2.

The movie starts out with a couple of my favorite songs: Brandy by the Looking Glass and Mr. Blue Sky by ELO.

Our discussion then turned to, however, did they get Kurt Russel to look so young again?  I said tons of face putty and hair dye (because we all know he still has great hair, but wrinkles are hard to hide).  She said great CGI effects.  Then we both decided that he looks pretty at any age.

Then or now, he is still a great-looking man.  Then we also agreed that it is so NOT FAIR!  Most of the men we know, not just in pictures but in real life as well, age so wonderfully.  Most of the women we know do not.  Unless we got through some significant night and day regimes, pay for reconstructive surgeries, or bury our head in the sand (almost the same as a mud facial), we do not age well. 

Now, I am not vain by any means.  I have always worked hard, and half my life was spent on farms or gardening – outdoor projects.  I have done, and still do, use UV protection.  Part of my learning process is learning the hard way. 

A perfect example was our 8th-grade mini-Olympics.  Someone found that the high-jump cushion was full of water from the rain the night before.  We started ripping off chunks of it and slapping each other with it.  Oh, dummy us.  Between that perfect spring sunny day and our soaking wet bodies, I ended up with 2nd-degree blister/burns on my body.  Most of my friends had the same issue, and we all had to spend the first couple of weeks of summer vacation staying indoors. 

After that singular incident, I became intensely aware of UV rays’ effects on my very white German/Irish body (ya, no tanning here – EVER! Boohoo).  Suntan lotion is a must!

We decided that as we age, we are becoming trolls.  Not the cute and cuddly ones from the movies:

More like the Ogre-looking ones:

Take away the skin color, the extreme pointy ears, and the little sparkles, and what have you got?  Abnormally large odd-shaped noses, hair growing where it shouldn’t be, funny-looking spots where there were none before, and saggy boobs. IT’S JUST NOT FAIR!

I NEVER considered myself a raving beauty, but I never thought of myself as a troll either.  I know aging does tons-of-fun things to every human body, but does it have to get so ugly?  I have to admit that if I could, I would change a couple of things (everything that sags must go!), but I don’t think that plastic surgery is my thing.  I look at some of my favorite celebrities and some I do not even recognize anymore.  I don’t know if they choose to change that much or if it was a botched job?  Then look at someone like Jennifer Grey.  She was up-and-coming in the 1980s.  Come on, Dirty Dancing!  Then she decided to change her most defining feature – her nose.  She could not get an acting job after that adjustment.

I watched an interview with her on ET, and all I could think of was how sad.  I liked her look before just fine.  It made her seem more real to me.  She was fantastic in Ferris Buehler’s Day Off (another with great music in it).  Yes, she still looks beautiful, but she did back then too.  She said she was happy she did it but had paid a high price for it. 

So, is it our own vanity?  Is it because the male of our species is driven by attraction?  Or, (as in my case) is it to be more comfortable with ourselves?  If it is any of these three, why doesn’t our opposite sex have to go through the same hoops?  I am beginning to think that God is a woman, and for us to pro-create, she made the females in our species a bit dumber in the picking a suiter area.  Then she also gave the male species the ability to grow older, looking better to find them appealing.  But if the male is more physically attraction-driven, then why do we end up looking like trolls?

Funny how they always draw them like this:     

And not more like this:

And what is it with the large breasts on these characters?  It is a curse, not a blessing, to have them. I can’t remember the last time my lower back stopped aching?

Oh well, life goes on.

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