I admit it: I get Botox.

I'll be honest: I get Botox. I admit it. I must say that I admire women that say fuck it! Age gracefully! But I can't help it. It's just so easy to go visit my Dr. Joe in Orange County (who's a beautiful man and probably actually 80 years old but he looks 50), with his fabulous marble floors and smiling receptionists. It takes a quick 15 minutes and a syringe, and I am rid of those evil elevens that stare me down every day like angry exclamation points.

This trip to Dr. Joe, however, I wonder if it was worth it. I THINK, but I can't be certain, that it helped nudge me into a bout of vertigo. I could be way off base and blaming poor Joe for something entirely not his fault, but I do see dizziness as a side effect of the injection and figured it might be so. Whether it was the botox's fault or not, as I lay spinning, it made me re-evaluate my commitment to these forever ageless procedures. Was it worth it?? All that time and money chasing my elusive youth? After all, I do have photoshop. 

But after all the waxing and plucking and dying and injecting, I still say—yes! Give it to me! God bless all y'all beautiful people who don't give a damn, but I would like to fight this age thing as long as I can. Just as a final note though: keep a few crows feet and smile lines—I think they're cute!