I won't turn 25 till Thanksgiving Day, so what I'm about to say might not make a whole lot of sense in a chronological (or logical) way. But I'm freaking old.
Not just because the last thing I posted was a quotation from "The Golden Girls," although that should qualify me for AARP membership. No, it's because I have found actual wrinkles on my face. I've got some to the left of my nose that are from smiling. Some below my eyes, also from smiling. They're pretty minor. No one would ever notice the ones under my eyes, and the ones by my nose are very light.
I have a giant deep crease and several auxiliary creases running across my forehead like tiny little horizons. I didn't even notice them till Trina pointed them out to me. (She'd told me she'd noticed her own forehead horizons and then confirmed mine -- it wasn't like she just said, "Hey, check it out! I can use your face as a level!") These are definitely not from smiling. I know this because apparently what you do, as an old person discovering a new wrinkle, is stand in front of the mirror and cycle through facial expressions trying to figure out what the hell kind of face you've been making so frequently as to cause your face to form a crease. And in the back of your mind, you're wondering what this says about your psychological state and if you possibly need therapy.
I'm fine with the laugh lines. Of course I laugh a lot. Those are good wrinkles.
So I stood there -- was it an angry face? No, but that produces a little crinkle slightly to the left of exactly between my eyebrows. I'd missed that one. Confused face does the same thing. Shit. I'm confused a lot. But "When Harry Met Sally" is one of my favorite movies, so it's all good.
Was it frowning? No, because only cartoon characters actually frown. How about surprise? Oh, there we fucking go.
I was shocked to discover the frequency with which I am (apparently) extremely surprised. Maybe it wasn't really surprise, but some other more subtle emotion. I sort of make a weird quasi-angry face when I'm concentrating or thinking, which is almost always, which is why some people seem to think I'm about to hit them all the time. Yeah, that's not it. Not even close. Back to the eyebrow crinkle there.
So then I did what any sane person would do. I started talking to the mirror. Apparently I raise my eyebrows as I talk for emphasis, particularly when I get to a punchline. I thought about that for a little bit and then came to a satisfactory conclusion.
I've got other people's laugh lines on my forehead.