Somewhere in the "Why Me?" category....

Now look. If I was to choose a point in time to travel back to, it would most likely not be when I was thirteen. So why, I ask, why does fate choose to hand me another batch of acne breakouts when I'm 63? It never fails. Every time I have to give an all-day seminar, speak to a women's group, teach a class, or do something where my general appearance is just a little extra- important, I get a huge, red bump right in the middle of that appearance.

I look in the mirror in the morning, much as I did today, and am greeted by not only my mother's face (that one definitely took some getting used to), but three or four extra added attractions. I seem to remember the voice of a dermatologist back in my late teens who pronounced my skin wonderfully clear, and assured me that the dreaded bumps would never return. Ha! What did he know! My current dermatologist seemed slightly gleeful when he announced that I did, indeed, have "Adult Acne."

Crap!

Today's batch not only caught me on my chin, right in the middle, but as an extra added attraction sprinkled my neck with the lovely crimson polka-dots. Normally, I would slip into something like a very sturdy turtleneck, but the temperature is supposed to hit 75 or so, which would not only leave me uncomfortably warm, but would add plenty of heat-related blotches to the mess. I would also have to super-glue the turtleneck to my chin line or spend the whole day yanking it up in order to feel properly disguised.

Just in case anyone out there thinks that women become less concerned with how they look after a certain age, let me inform you that nothing could be further from the truth. I will admit to enjoying the fact that I can practically live in jeans, that I do have a few old t-shirts that I will never throw out (many of them have my son's band logos on the front, and one says "think unique" on it), and that these feet will never see pointy-toed, five-inch stiletto heeled boots, but will instead exist in comfortable footwear. If anyone has a problem with those facts, they can simply learn to live with it.

My personality is also set in stone. I am intense, curious, humorous, sarcastic at times, politically active, hugely interested in the well-being of others, creative, and occasionally, pissed off. Those who know and love me have learned to accept the whole conglomeration. It took me a really long time to put it all together, and at this point I ain't changing for nobody!!!

However, I do know that I put a certain amount of time and effort into presenting myself well, even if I'm not leaving the house. I am not thrilled with the extra fifty pounds my children gave me - okay, I'm still blaming it on baby-weight, even though they are both in their thirties. I am not totally happy with the portions of me that suddenly have appeared six to ten inches below where they used to be. But, let me tell you, I do my best to put together a pretty good package when introducing myself to the world, even if some days the world is only the UPS guy.

I guess I must resign myself to regular visits to my local drugstore, where they carry the hypoallergenic cosmetic lines, and where a magical potion called "concealer" exists. Considering the ailments that I have pushed myself through, and the fun stuff that my friends have dealt with, needing a few dabs a day of skin-tinted goo isn't so bad after all.

When I'm done at the drugstore, maybe I'll go check out those boots............