 |
|
Golden Inspirations |
|
"You can do it, if you believe you can."
- Napoleon Hill
|
|
|
| |
|
|
Home  Featured Columnists Leigh Anne Jasheway-Bryant The Accidental Comic Don't Do The Math
|
Don’t Do the Math
I remember when my medicine chest was full of fun stuff like perfume, eyeliner, and Rolling Stones concert tickets I was hiding from my parents. Today though, it’s mostly full of lotions and creams with the phrase “anti-aging” somewhere on the label (usually it’s the only thing in a type size I can read). There in the right hand corner next to my hair mousse (I use mousse instead of spray because saying “mousse” to my friends makes me feel hip) are two bottles of stuff, one that guarantees to “reduce the signs of aging by 61% in one week” and one that guarantees “84% more youthful skin in three days.” I wonder if I mix the two, can I actually turn back time and look like I did in a previous life? Maybe when I was Cleopatra.
My math skills may be a little rusty, but here’s the equation I came up with. In one week, I should be 61% + 84% +84% + (84% divided by 3) = 257% younger than before I rubbed on either of the creams! Let’s say for argument’s sake that I’m 53. (I will deny that on a stack of anti-aging product instructions in a court of law). A 257% reduction in my age would be, uh… okay…
I’m stuck. It’s probably an imaginary number. Those always stumped me. My best guess is that I’d be minus 67 and a half years old. Does that sound right to you? Heck, I’m probably too young to even be driving yet. Much less worrying about crows’ feet!
The problem is – I mean besides my inability to do higher level math – for the past month I have been mixing these two anti-aging products together, along with five others that guarantee other kinds of results (from “Regain your youthful complexion” to “We promise you’ll never see your mother in the mirror!”). Remarkably, I haven’t noticed any real changes of any kind. I still have laugh lines, frown lines, and carry-on bags under my eyes. Thank heavens, the limit is two.
When I look at my face closely in the mirror lately, I don’t see anything at all. Until I take off my contact lenses so I can see that close up, that is. Then I see pores the size of potholes. But that’s only because I have to use one of those magnifying mirrors that makes everything look ten times bigger than it is. I tried holding the magnifying mirror up to my checkbook one day hoping it would have the same effect. It didn’t.
When my face finally does come into focus, I can see some patches of dry flaky skin, a broken capillary on the side of my nose that showed up after my last two-week cold, the scar where I jumped from my high chair as a toddler, a few extra layers of peach fuzz above my lip (I forgot to duct-tape them off last week), etc. It’s the face of a woman who has been there, done that, and laughed, frowned, and squinted her way through it all.
I don’t expect miracles from the miracle products in my medicine cabinet. I know that no matter what type of math I use, even in the metric system my face is pretty much my face, no matter what I put on it. But I would like to be able to smear on a cream and say truthfully, “I think I see a 22% reduction in fine lines around my mouth this morning.” Especially considering that just one of these bottles recently reduced my weekly income by more than 22%.
My husband has an explanation for why my anti-aging stuff isn’t doing its job. He thinks that rather than working together to increase the number of years I can wipe off the face of my face, the mixed products are counteracting one another. In his math, by adding the 61% cream to the 84% cream, I actually should look 23% older.
He thinks I should stop mixing stuff together. He could be right. I guess I should just choose one and see how good of a job it does on its own. But how will I spend my free time? Hey, I wonder what would happen if I mixed his Rogaine with my Nair…
|
|
|
|
