"There is no such thing as inner peace. There is only nervousness or death. Any attempt to prove otherwise constitutes unacceptable behavior." Fran Lebowitz 

There's not much we can control in our lives.

Okay. There is nothing we can control in our lives. It's all an illusion. I don't know how I got here. I don't know where I'll end up. I can't control the weather or the stock market or the politicians. I can't control my calorie intake, my sons sex life, my husbands demons. I pretend control other things like my job and my car and my book reading but any of those could disappear in a puff of smoke.

So with dramatic existential angst I control [or pretend to] the only thing available to me. My day to day "beauty" routine. My week to week attempts at staving off the inevitable effects of aging. My monthly expenditures into hair salons, nail salons, spas. I realize now, just this small attempt at controlling my environment is a soothing mechanism. No hoarder or compulsive hand washer has anything on me when it comes to my beauty routines.

Thank God for the little things. 

Vanity takes 3rd place as a motivating factor. Reason number one is now the illusion of some control. It calms me. Reason number 2 is the comfort of a routine. Vanity straggles in at 3rd place. And how time-consuming and costly it can become.

Morning: shampoo for highlighted hair. separate soap for face and body. Shave all body hair. Pre-rinse with whitening mouthwash [thank you Monsieur Chariot!] to keep teeth white and stain free. Floss and brush. Go to frequent dental appointments to bring mouth up to speed with no more cavities, wisdom teeth or tartar. Go for cleanings twice a year. Stave off gingivitis!

Apply anti-wrinkle face cream bought at drugstore. Cannot afford the expensive prescription creams that dermatologists love to sell to us middle-agers. Apply SPF 15 over that to fight blotchy skin spots from the sun and more sun damage. Apply makeup over that, blush. Soothing lip gloss to pamper lips. Spray anti-tangler onto wet hair. Highlights are professionally put in every 4 months. Hair trimmed every 2 months. Comb through, spray in more product to volumize, blow-dry.

Drive to work sipping 1/2 caffeinated coffee for health reasons. Eat yogurt for breakfast, a salad at lunch. Cheeseburger and fries? Really, you need more girth added to your hips? Fiber bar for snack. More coffee in the aftenoon. 

[Insert chardonnay & chocolate whenever appropriate: happy hour(s) and 3pm sugar craving.]  

After work head to gym. Work out for 30 minutes. The metabolism isn't what it used to be. Gravity is taking its toll. Add yoga when available, keep the limbs stretched to avoid fractures and sprains.

Four times a year visit facialist for expensive hands-on professional to preen and moisturize and de-clog your face. The face everybody looks at every day. Have brows waxed. Often. Every 2 months head to the pedicurist to scrape and tone and moisturize your feet and paint your toe nails. I spend very little time taking care of my feet. I count on her to let me know what's going on down there. Add manicures when fingernails become so ugly you're embarrassed: hang nails, ripped and torn nails, bitten nails.

Buy expensive and supportive bras as I won't be getting any artificial fillers or implants. Sit-ups to fight the losing battle of the menopausal belly.

Supplements, vitamins, tinctures. Every day there is a new theory advanced: B vitamins stave off heart problems, folate is good for the heart, COQ10 is a must also, says the neurologist. 

Cosmetics counter for tinted moisturizer, blush, mascara. MAC lipstick and lipstick pencil. Less is more these days but coverage is necessary. 

I find these routines are the ones left to me that keep me semi-sane, thinking I have some control over my environment.  Allow me this one last vestige, this illusion that somehow I do.  It's not a lot. But it's all I have.