I’ve long suspected that death visits us while we sleep and strokes our faces, pinching and pulling as he whispers Gollum-like, “Oh, my precious.” How else explain this stretched out skin that has lost its elasticity.
The only other explanation is wanderlust. My cheeks once interested only in the world that was in front of my face have grown curious and want to see what’s below my jaw. I believe the common term for this is jowls (which rhymes with howls, which happens when I accidently look in the mirror).
Courtesy of Flickr user SuperFantastic
My eyes have the same desire to travel. A large bag sits ready below each eye, awaiting the call to leave. When I was younger, my eyes would sometimes pack these bags; however, after a good night’s sleep they would empty their bags and settle down, prepared to face the world. Now they are determined to bring as much as possible on the journey.
My ears, tired of being ignored and relegated to being a mere sideshow to my face, add cartilage every chance they get, racing to reach my shoulders before my jowls do. They’ve also started peeking out behind the curtain of hair that hangs over them. That curtain used to be thicker, but the bathroom floor is now a popular destination. It is widely believed by my hairs that the ones that reach the floor will get swept up in a kind of whirlwind once they get there. The rumors are true.
The result of my facial migration south is a face that only a bloodhound or possibly a Shar Pei could love. Thus, my eschewal* of selfies.
Courtesy of User:Ropompin on Wikimedia Creative Commons
Each emotion I have felt has used my face for origami, folding and unfolding the skin to show joy, anger, disgust, delight, and a thousand other feelings. The creases are all permanent now and, outside of surgery, my former smoothery is possible only inside a wind tunnel.
Courtesy Pinterest user: Michele Gambone
*Use of the verb “eschew” calls for a piece ofchocolate. Use of the noun form “eschewal,” calls for two pieces. You're welcome.
year-struck 
What a nice sight in my inbox! Good to see you!
Rather than a bloodhound, more resemble a St. Bernard these days, or a Newfoundland. Wet. Jowly. Drooly. With a layer of fat one wouldn’t expect to find quite everywhere on the body.
Our skin, just like us, has more to pack for it’s travels. Sometimes they even take saddlebags along. Nice to see you back.
You come roaring back onto my computer with a typical Yearstricken triumph. Our faces, expressing our long experience but still ready for adventure!
Thanks as usual for a fun read–insightful too. And I ate the chocolate just for reading “eschew”–one of my current favorite words!
So glad to see you again! You are back with the same hilarious truths. Thanks
You haven’t lost your touch! I’ve missed you! To celebrate this glorious post, I think I’ll eschew a piece of chocolate with my morning coffee. Thanks for the good giggle.
Whatever else is going on, your level of wit-and-wisdom hasn’t fallen in the slightest. Go ahead and chew on some chocolate, whose eschewal would be nigh unto tragic indeed! And there’s *my* cue. Race you to the chocolate stash!
xo
At least your face is moving slowly. My hair ran away like a thief in the night.
Always enjoy your humor, dear year stricken. What I worry about is that it’s harder to get a column of yours to chew on, than a piece of chocolate. So good to see you again.
You get extra points for conjuring up the word “eschewal”. It’s always a delight to see your name pop up in my notifications, and as usual, my face has crinkles and wrinkles while I’m visiting your blog. I don’t know how you managed to find that windblown Shar Pei photo, but it’s PERFECT (thanks, google).
Just this weekend, my oldest sister (65) was remarking that she’s “starting to get wrinkles on my neck”. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that she may just now be noticing it, but those of us on the other side of the mirror could have told her that was happening about ten years ago! She’s well past the “starting to get wrinkles” stage. 🙂
Not that I have any room to be talking. It has always slightly annoyed me that my permanent facial grooves have a predominantly downward turn. I don’t mind having wrinkles, (really, I don’t), but can’t they be happy wrinkles instead of pouty wrinkles? I would much prefer to die with a smile on my face, rather than this sad dog droop that lives around the corners of my mouth. Guess I’m going to have to practice constant smiling … like coming over here to your blog for a visit. Always good to see you … hope you (and your fallen face) are doing well. Hugs! 🙂
Eshew = chocolate? I always thought you got a cashew for each eshew. Perhaps a chocolate covered cashew…
Sent you an email…not sure I have the most current address. Please contact me if you have not received it. Thx
Oh my goodness, we must be twin sisters from different mothers. I have all the same features plus naturally gorgeous gray hair that people comment on because that’s the safest item to mention. I also have hot flashes that turn my face and neck firey red and allow my husband to announce wherever we are, “You’re having a flash.” Yes dear, I am. Thanks for letting me know. I wouldn’t want to miss one. I look forward to reading more about myself in your blog. Write on sister.
I have never read anything so funny about this subject before.
It’s hilarious. I would like to put a copy of the whole thing on my fridge for a laugh every day.
Thanks