Sunday, August 25, 2013

I was  looking at a breathtakingly beautiful thirty-three year old aesthetician. I was completely distracted by her enormous eyes, (I’m half Iranian,” she said) her beautiful pouty pink lips and her long thick hair. I liked looking at her but did not like hearing what she was saying.

“Because you have had oily skin,” she said,  “You will not wrinkle much—you will sag. Yes, here, I can see.” She touched my jawline.  

 “Oh, you mean my Newt Gingrich-like pouches,” I said laughing and pulling on my skin.
 “Yes. And you must not do that. Do not pull on your skin.”
What? Why wasn’t she contradicting me and telling me that I don’t look like Newt Gingrich?
She turned to Pam. “And you—you do not have large pores. I see pores all day long and yours are not large. Get rid of your magnifying mirror. When you called about your pores, I thought you would have skin like an orange peel!
 Pam looks disappointed. “What about my wrinkles?”
 “You have no wrinkles.”
 “What about my rosacea?”
 “Do you have papules and pustules?”
“Well, if you don’t have papules and pustules you don’t have rosacea. What you have are broken capillaries. Do you jog? Joggers are the worst. They get hot, their capillaries open and that bouncing around—their capillaries break.”
There was silence for just a moment so I cleared my throat.
 “Can I ask you a question that’s a little personal?” I said.
 “Of course.”
 “Have you had Botox?”
 “Yes. In my forehead. Because one day I made a face and someone told me I looked just like my mother.”
 “So you got Botox because of that.”
 “Yes. And now I can’t make that face.”
 It made me wonder: is there something they can give you so you won’t act like your mother?

Saturday, August 10, 2013

Listen To The Ice Cream

I just got off the phone with a friend who is shocked at her family's inability to listen to one another. They all talk at once--on top of one another. They don't respond to one another because they are so busy speaking.

It's like having dozens of sof-t-cone machines churning out ice cream. It's going all over the floor because there is no one to catch it, let alone eat it and enjoy it.

And of course they ask her nothing about what's going on in her life.

 For years this has been how I evaluate my social experiences: did you find out anything about me and my life? 

This drives my husband crazy because when we are discussing a party on the way home in the car, I almost always say, "S/he didn't ask anything about me." Then I proceed to give a bio on everyone with whom I interacted just to prove that I take my own advice.

To avoid being a victim I'll often dive into the word river only to find that after a few sentences I'm again drowning in the story which is all about the other person.

It's not like people aren't aware. I've even had someone say, "Oh, my God! The last time we talked it was all about me. Tell me what's happening with you!" So I do. For a few moments.

I used to get mad, but now I just sigh.

That is until just a few moments ago because of this phone call from my wise, witty, wonderful friend who has SEVENTY-FIVE years of amazing life experience to share!

So heads up, people! Ask others about themselves. Listen without speaking. Look that person in the eye. Inquire more deeply into what they have just told you.

Enjoy one another. Eat a sof-t-cone.

And what's your experience with this? I'm listening.