Don’t mess with Jen

Dear Mother Nature,

Why oh why must you torment me so?

I am 38 years old. I have given birth twice and have the related stretch marks. I also have cellulite, gray hairs, dry skin, and frequent sleepless nights. I am only a few years away from bifocals. I’m sure that wrinkles and crow’s feet are not far off either. I can’t eat spicy food the way I used to and my weight is a daily concern. My boobs and butt are no longer as perky as they used to be. Really, I think I have enough going on with my body these days.

So I ask you, is it really necessary to also curse me with acne? I mean, I’m not exactly a teenager anymore. I had thought my Stridex days were past, but now I find myself standing in the skin care aisle at Target next to pizza-faced teenage boys.

And it’s not like those angry red bumps are the domain of my face only. Oh no, Mother Nature, you’ve seen fit to sprinkle those fuckers in other places including my scalp, hairline, chest, and even occasionally my ass. Is this bad karma? Am I being punished for something?

[Side note: I believe it is a sign of True Love if one's husband is willing to doctor the aforementioned zits on one's ass.]

[I know...ewww.]

[Hey, you can't ever say that you don't get full and complete honesty here at Jen on the Edge. If you want lies and fairy tales, see here.]

Really Mother Nature, I think that by the time one has reached my age, a woman deserves a little dignity and respect. I don’t think that clear creamy skin is too much to ask for.

But apparently, you do.

Thanks a lot beeyotch. You better hope we don’t meet in a dark alley because I will cut you.

XO,
Jen