Cassie v. Age

Part I: Neutrogena Clinical

In forty-four days I will entering a territory known as “my late thirties” otherwise known as Happy 37th Birthday. As a side note, how the hell did this happen? Wasn’t it just yesterday that I was turning twenty-one at Axis and dancing to alternative music while declining numerous offers of Zima with Chambord? It was. But now, my vagina has expelled two life forms, I am what Oprah would classify as “perimenopausal” and bangs a/k/a forehead wrinkle covers are about two minutes from my future. However, I resolve to go down fighting. And by fighting, I mean spending large sums of money on products that promise antiwrinkling age defiance. Truthfully due to a combination of genetics, not much sun exposure, the heavy consumption of water and almost maniacal moisturizing since the age of eighteen, I think I have done good thus far. But I will not be lax in this fight, this is where it gets dirty. Almost forty demands action.

Yesterday in Walgreens, I once again passed the Neutrogena Clinical Day Moisturizing combination promising a firmer more youthful look. I have read the reviews on this stuff, and was impressed, but the $39.99 price tag was what I would say was a bit “heavy”. Then I remembered the time where spending $75.00 each on Clarins Day and Night Cream was nothing. The magical time prior to kids and a mortgage, where money went to clothes, shoes, booze and skincare. I miss you so! So I forked over the money for my ION2 complex fountain of youth.

Today after my run of 6.1 miles - I would like to say that again because it makes me happy - AFTER MY 6.1 MILE RUN and shower, I stood under the harsh fluorescent lamps of the office showers. Those lights suck. I applied the quoted “dime size” amount of the gel serum covering my face and neck. It is gray and goes on like liquid silk. Then the application of the “dime size” activating cream. Oh la la. I can say after one attempt that I have not felt softness like this since the rubbing of Owen’s ass after his horrifying meconium poop. My face feels like a baby’s ass people. In case you don’t have a baby, that is soft. Very soft. Like the kind of soft you think clouds must feel like. My face feels like clouds.

Day One of the Neutrogena Clinical Day Cream Test has gone well. We shall see what the next days shall bring. But I am hoping pregnancy glow skin. Cause that shit was the best.

Football, Football, Football

Ah football. It is the season that allows the slow descent into insanity because of an overflow of fantasy football knowledge. If you have not figured it out, I can be a tad competitive. So much so, my family once accused me of memorizing Wheel Of Fortune (The Home Game) answers. This was not true, because in order to do that I would have to memorize over 300 phrases that paired with the sheet number visible on the board. Total idiot savant abilities that I unfortunately do not possess. But because of uber competitive spirit (problem), they totally believed I spent hours upon hours memorizing phrases with numbers so that I could win - at Wheel of Fortune. This gives you a slight glimpse into my competitive nature. The point is that for the last month there has been the steady consumption of fantasy football statistics, advice, magazine and websites (none of which I will share because they are my little secrets, and fucking find your own). The only thoughts this week have been fantasy football related as my drafts are tomorrow and Friday. Yesterday I came home with a tiered IDP cheat sheet as well as a tiered position cheat sheet with average draft position that John could look over so that we can discuss our plan of attack tonight. Couple time bitches! There was even the nightmare last evening about not drafting an IDP until the 10th round. A dream that woke me up, and kept me up because then I started to think of drafting strategy from the front end, middle and end draft spots. All because I am dorky. Or insane. Or competitive. But at least I have a hobby other than knitting on the train. So there!