#changingface

It has been several months since I have updated, posted, or liked anything on my site. I have been dealing with a lot, and have been working hard to get my life back in order. I have a new life, job, friends, and goals (mainly health related). 

Health has become seriously overlooked in my life and my boyfriend, Sam’s, life. We have been so focused on other aspects in our lives that we have completely neglected ourselves.

A few years ago I was the healthiest I had ever been, and was working on getting even healthier. I had lots of help from having a separate account that focused on living well, eating healthy, and being active. I am hoping that this is what I can turn this site into, with the hopes of inspiring me to get back on track. 

When You Are Old

When you are old and grey and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true, But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face; And bending down beside the glowing…

If I disappear, I’ll end up running the whole fang dangled show, I just know it. I won’t want to, not really but someone, probably Jonsie with insist on it. I’ll tell him no and then no and then no absolutely not under any circumstances no. But he won’t listen and I’ll shuffle my feet and put on that top hat Aunt Elsa sent back when she was still kicking and trolling through vintage shops in tiny towns in rural Georgia.

She sent the hat to me, a collapsible top hat with its mechanism still in perfect working order, with a note. She wrote the note on a yellow lined 3 x 5 card. It said, “For all your beautiful inner workings that no one can see. May you always be able to collapse and pop back up when needed.” 

 Have you ever looked at the inner metal frame of a collapsible top hat? They really are ingenious. Metal hinges and rods and springs joined by tiny pins all working together. Some collapsible top hats get rusty and don’t function so well anymore. But mine works perfectly, even after almost 100 years. I’m always impressed when things last long. So much doesn’t these days.

 I didn’t mean to be the one who would become invisible. It just sort of happened. Everyone was talking about it. Some people wanted it desperately. Some couldn’t fathom not looking in a mirror and seeing their own face staring back. I was sort of indifferent and, honestly, a bit sick of this face. I would have asked for a new face but those were all spoken for – for at least the next 7 or 10 years so I thought having none at all, or at least the illusion of none at all for a while might be the way to go for me. Maybe I could get more done if people weren’t always trying to look in my eyes and convince me that their cause, their passion, their way, was superior to my own.

 I always found avoiding other peoples’ eyes difficult. I lock on to them, become mesmerized, and forget everything I think is true. Silly, right? Maybe when there are new faces available I might get one. I suppose I should sign up for one now. But it’s hard to know what kind. I mean, who will I want to be after my invisible years? I guess I could just let them pick, the people down at the Face Replacement Center. That’s probably the best plan. I think I’ll go there tomorrow. I hope there won’t be a line. People spend hours sometimes at the service windows, pouring over the brochures. So many kinds of faces are possible.

 Aunt Elsa went through a slew of faces in her lifetime. The one she died with was the one of a beautiful young Asian girl with coal black eyes. The face never seemed to quite fit and looked most often as if it were floating above her body rather than being attached to it.  I would turn off the video part of chat whenever she called. I just wanted to hear her voice: low and cracked but with a slight lilt whenever she was excited or talking about a recent thrift store find.