Well freaking well, internet. It’s April already! You may recall that last year around this time, I was seized with a bout of experimentation in home anti-aging breakthroughs. That didn’t go so well, and I still have a little scar.
This year, however, I’ve had great success with cosmetic dentistry. I went to the dentist today, and he complimented my teeth. I’d never seen this dentist before, but I soon took to him, falling asleep as his bear-like Russian hands cupped my jaw. Such a gentle brute. When I awoke, he had filed down my front teeth. At first I was all “Hey, isn’t this a little Charles Dickens?” But then I took a second look, and I must admit the effect is pleasing. “There,” he said. “ocharovatel’naya, charuyuschaya ulybka” And I had to agree. Damn.
Now I’m wearing 2 layers of Crest Whitestrips. I accidentally swallowed one, but I think I’ll be fine. The things I do for beauty.
I got to thinking about how good Mr. B manages to look these days. I am sure he has a whole team to work on him, drugs like a NASCAR pit crew. I was racking my brain as to how I could emulate all this good grooming, and it hit me: botox! I already work out, have a more than competent hairstylist, and Iâ€™d like to think Iâ€™m not a terrible slouch in the fashion department. But I am starting to wrinkle a bit, and that one stubborn wrinkle between my eyes really bugs me.
This idea got my home dermatology juices flowing, so I looked up how to make botox. You really can find anything on the internet. It turns out itâ€™s mostly denatured alcohol, salt, and egg white. You can approximate the paralytic effect of the toxin with pyrethrin, which is a common pesticide ingredient! Thus began the bathroom chemistry. It looked pretty gross, but I dabbed some on with a cotton ball and waited a few minutes. It burned like a sonofabitch for a bit, but eventually the whole area went numb! Unfortunately there was no discernable visual change, so I figured you really do have to inject it, itâ€™s not going to get through to the muscle otherwise.
I have a syringe that I scammed off my diabetic pal. I use it to refill my one nice fountain pen, and I figured “if that moron can inject herself every single day, surely I can master this.” I spent the rest of the afternoon practicing on an orange, with an Allure Magazine spread on botox for reference. Not too hard really. I braced my elbow on the toothbrush holder in the bathroom for steadiness and gave the wrinkle a poke. Andâ€¦ it hurt. A lot. The end result is a giant weeping sore. Bugger. I donâ€™t think Iâ€™ll be going out this weekend, unless Mr. H makes me go to a doctor. I am half-tempted to post a picture and get everyoneâ€™s best amateur medical evaluations. So far Iâ€™ve just been spritzing on tea tree oil, like every fifteen minutes.