Now if this isn’t the most ironic thing:
The author of The First Wives Club died during surgery… for a facelift.
I have issues with my appearance, like most women, but I will never have a facelift. I don’t care if I start looking like a Shar-Pei. I am prematurely gray. At 32, my hair isn’t just salt and pepper, it’s more than 50% gray. I don’t really have any problems with weight — some stretch marks and baggy skin on my belly. But I’m only 5’4″, 100 pounds, and a woman my size can’t have three kids and not get all stretchy.
In other news, I fell down and hurt myself (just like a toddler) yesterday. I was carrying Dylan, slipped on a toy on the floor, and down I went. Now, since I was holding my baby, I didn’t want him to get hurt, so I wasn’t able to block my fall. My hand must have gone out, though, because I did something heinous to it. I don’t know if I sprained it, but today, the thumb joint is all swollen. My backside is what’s killing me. I fell right down on my keister.
Well, I’m off for now.