Why Do Men Get Better Looking As They Get Older, And Women Just Look Worse?

Last night I was forced to watch one of Josh's favorite childhood movies, Darby O' Gill and the Little People. The title alone made me shudder with thoughts of little leprechauns jumping about, and really bad acting. Being St. Patrick's Day and all, it was of course fitting for the occasion. Now don't get me wrong, I love old films. I am a huge fan of Rear Window, An Affair to Remember, and Breakfast at Tiffany's just to name a few, but there's just something about an old man talking to little men dressed in green that makes me sick to my stomach. I may have appreciated it more if it had been a movie I watched when I was a kid, something like Parent Trap, or that movie "Cartoon All-Stars To The Rescue" the anti-drug movie with Winnie-the-Pooh and Alf, that I rented from A-1 video in town at least a hundred times. I was not only completely against drugs then, but I'm sure this is the reason why I've completely stayed away from them for so many years. If you start early, that stuff is chizzled into your brain.

Anyway, onward, and on to the point of my blog. The bright spot in the film was Sean Connery. I am a HUGE fan of most everything Sean Connery. His white hair, his huge eyebrows, the accent, the over all look of him, and oh, his acting is nice too. Sean was much younger in this movie, 29, I read, and while he was good looking, I much prefer the 69 year old Connery.

I know, ew, right? I'm sorry, I have a thing... A good looking man is a good looking man, and I have had a crush on Sean Connery since I saw him in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. It was love at first sight, I had to have been four when I saw it. I have had a thing for older men ever since, and somedays I still wonder why I married a guy only a year and a half older than me. Josh isn't old enough. He'll get there, though.

So as I sat with Josh watching the movie I wondered aloud, "Why do men get better looking, and women just look worse as they age?" And it's true. Johnny Depp? Can't get much better than Johnny Depp at 45, glorious. Richard Gere? Like I said, I love me some white hair,Kevin Costner, I'm in love... And, Mel Gibson? Well he is iffy, I think party of his problem is his decision to jump on the crazy train. But I'm sure if he hadn't fallen off his rocker, he in fact would be glorious too.

So why is it that men get better looking as they get older. Is it not enough that woman have to suffer through the pains of childbirth, cellulite, bloating, and weight complexes through our entire lives, but we also have to carry the burden that our boyfriends and husbands will only get better looking as we look more and more like hell? Is there no justice in the world?

I sat there watching the movie and came to the probable realization that at 21, this is as good as I am going to look, and to tell you the truth, that kind of sucks... I'm not saying I'm ugly, I'm just saying that it's a real bummer that I'm going to peak at 21. Bleh. The dark circles, the "alabaster" skin, and the very visible veins I have protruding out of my hands that I can thank my beautiful grandmother for, will only get worse.

Some mornings I look in the mirror and just shake my head. Makeup really does make a huge difference. DEPRESSING!!! Now if I could only get it to stick on my face... I've tried everything from cover girl, to Clinique, to Bare Minerals, NOTHING stays on my face. I think I might start using some spackle or plaster as a base coat... That might help.

And why is it that we just keep looking worse as the day goes on? I like those few minutes between putting my makeup on and getting my outfit on in the morning. Those few minutes when I say, "Hey this could work." We keep getting worse, and our guys just sit there all smug and good looking for the entire day. Half the time they don't even brush their hair. Again, NO JUSTICE.

I wish there was some sort of miracle work that could make us look better. Oh there is botox, and surgery, and all that fun stuff, but my thoughts are, if I wasn't born with it, then I wasn't meant to have it. I "blessed" with a small chest, so when guys in high school would come up to me and ask if I would get a boob job when I got older I would politely say, "What the hell kind of question is that? NO."

Is it some joke from God that we have to suffer through everything else, and just look older and older? Is there a secret? Is it just good genes? Or is it just great products and alot of money? Women at 45 in Hollywood look better than I do at 21. But I really don't have the money to lay down for a little tuck here, and a little enhancement there.

So with muscle freezing botox out, and putting bags of saline or silicone into my chest out. I'm left with creams and salves and living a good life, and the hopes that I will age gracefully....But I'm not betting on it.

It's A Grace Kind Of Day...

It's rainy today, and I am wishing I was Grace Kelly on a beach somewhere. I LOVE swimsuits from this era, and of course, I love Grace Kelly. Really, I adore these swimsuits. I've looked for them to buy one for myself. How was everything so elegant back then? Well Grace Kelly made everything beautiful in my opinion. I hope you have a wonderful weekend. Think about sun and sand!

Today We Are Missing... Paris

I think I have said how much I miss being in Europe about 100 times on this blog. I'm pretty sure everyone on here is tired of hearing about it too. But again today, I am going to talk about Paris. Josh and I talk about Europe alot, sometimes we don't say anything for awhile, and then there are days when the topic comes up more than once. Sometimes it is because we have seen something on t.v. and sometimes it's just from the sheer missing of those days we spent together living with friends in Europe.

In February when we went to down to Oregon to visit the couple we lived with, the time we spent together in Europe was brought up between Danae and I while the guys ran into the store to grab some beers. We usually talk about the same things, the memories that stand out in our minds. We rarely talk about the trip we made to Trier, but instead talk about the night we spent drinking an enormous bottle of Lambrusco on the floor, or the morning I burnt the toast in the toaster oven. These are the things that stand out, and these are the things that I hope I remember forever. These were some of the best times in my life, and this is probably the reason I miss Europe so much.

I grew so much while I was in Europe. I grieved: I cried for my dad, I cried for my mom, and my brother, and then I cried for myself. Crying for yourself might be the hardest thing to do when there are so many other people to worry about. I screamed, and threw things (yes, I'm a thrower), and then I began to rebuild my life with Josh's help. I found that I could stand up without falling down to my knees, and I could make it through a whole day without crying.

I think Paris was a real turning point for me. I had been dreaming of Paris ever since I could remember, but even as we pulled into the train station in Paris I wasn't as excited as I thought I would be. Sure I was excited to be there, but I've always felt that once you lose someone in life a little piece of that joy and excitement you have over something is lost. That the person you lost should be sharing in the moment with you, and because they never will again, some of the excitement is gone. I get excited about things now, but that uncontrollable giddiness that you feel before a loss is gone, and I don't know if you ever feel pure bliss again. Is it bad to think that way? This is how I feel.

But Paris was beautiful, better than I could have imagined, and I decided upon getting out of the taxi that yes, I would live here in a heartbeat, among all this crazy mess of traffic, and I would revel in it, because Paris was glorious, Paris was sweet, Paris had something I needed. Those few days in Paris were amazing, and it took everything I had in me to get on the train to go home.

The shops were amazing, the streets, the monuments and buildings, they don't get any better than Europe. I felt like I was home. My only problem, neither of us knew the language.

So when Josh and I talk about going back to Europe he guarentees me that we won't be going until one of us knows how to speak French. He told me last night while we were in bed that he thinks the only way were are getting back there is if we somehow con one of our non-existant kids to go to Culinary School in Paris. He also reminds me that a child's love of cooking usually comes from it's mother, which brings the odds down for our kids alot because I in fact, do not love to cook. He told me I need to break the cycle, but I just don't think I can. Baking is another story. I said one of them could be a pastry chef, and that would be fine with me. Oh no, no, no. Apparently it's not okay with Josh. Besides 25 some odd years is too long to wait for Paris.

We need to win the lottery, or somehow make it rich. I guess I better start buying lottery tickets down at the gas station. I will be starting a bake sale soon to earn money for Paris, so if anyone would like to make a donation that would be wonderful. Until then, I am left with images of this sweet place.

photo by me:)

found via google

photo by me:)

Have a wonderful weekend!

Yes, I Am Alive...

So I didn't realize how long it has been since I posted last. And to tell you the truth, I really don't have much interesting to talk about today. I see that the last time I posted was the week before my Feb. 28th wedding, which must mean that I burried myself in shoot lists, things I needed to finish up cleaning and all the other things I do on a regular basis, just multiplied by 10. So I've decided that this morning I should pull my self out of this hole I have made for myself, and emerge into the sunshine... Well sunshine/gray skies/snow...

Yes it is snowing again... Let the pandemonium ensue, because we all know it will, and we all know that it already has. I'm pretty sure that this morning when we all woke up to snow the world stopped spinning and their was a collective "crap" uttered from every person that has to drive to work this morning. No, I am not in this category, so I cannot fully understand. How I make it to work is not effected. All I have to do is pop out of bed and walk to my desk. Really hard, right? Weather like this effects me too. I can't have a session when the weather is awful. But I'm not screaming at the sky wondering why God has decided to spite me once again. There is nothing I can do about the snow, it snows every year. Yes, this year has been extra special, but it's not like we have just witnessed the apocolypse.

Onward, before I get angry. Like I said earlier, I have been in a hole for the last two weeks. I have been widdling away at my website, fine tuning it, thinking I'm finished, and then changing something that was probably fine to begin with, but it wasn't great. On top of that, I have been editing like crazy. So this is me apologizing to the very few of you who actually check this blog. There is nothing interesting to talk about. It's been work, work, work. Maybe tomorrow I will tell you about our adventure in house hunting. Until then, here is a little sneak peek at the site that should be up soon!!!

Yes, I know this is crooked.

The mess I created for my desk yesterday after I organized the closet.