Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Day 67, July 25

I just returned from a visit to my sister in Utah.  Carla (my sister) has a lovely home.  I have only one problem with it:  mirrors.  It has too many.

Mirrors are not my friend.

In her bedroom, the closet doors are covered with mirrors.  Another full length mirror is hanging from the door.  The bathroom boasts fold-out mirrors so that one can view herself from any number of unflattering angles.  To add insult to injury, it also has a magnifying mirror.

I made the mistake of looking into the magnifying mirror and nearly fell over.  Only the toilet at the back of my knees prevented me from landing on my tush.  Who was that looking back at me?  This woman had pores the size of the moon's craters, bristling hairs clinging to her chin, and sunken eyes.

That doesn't begin to take in the elongated nose that's growing longer with every day, drooping ear lobes, and thinning lips.  The magnifying mirror did its job, magnifying every single defect to hideous clarity.  I flipped it to the "normal" side and heaved a sigh of relief.  The pores had diminished, the hairs had disappeared, and the eyes, well the eyes, were still sunken but at least I could identify them as eyes.

I came away, shaken but resolved in my conviction that mirrors are not my friend.

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