I need cosmetic surgery. There. I said it. This is something I had never considered considering before, but after struggling with my eye makeup and squinting into the mirror for several minutes I realized something. My eyes are crooked. This was not a surprise. I had noticed my offset eyes a few years ago but didn’t realize the extent to which my face was melting. The entire right side of my face looks like it gave up and is slowly sliding off into Bell’s Palsy oblivion. I am not exaggerating. If I don’t consciously raise my right eyebrow to be level with the left, I look like someone with developmental difficulties. I don’t know when this happened or why, but I do know that I will most likely continue to raise my eyebrow in hopes of strengthening these melting facial muscles and hiding my deformity forever. If I don’t, I’ll be sure to offend stroke victims everywhere as it looks like I’m continuously making fun of their aftermath.
Do people “come down with” fetal alcohol syndrome? Is this something with an “adult onset”? I didn’t realize that facial paralysis was a side effect of excessive weight gain. Clearly there is some underlying cause. Do I really need an eye lift at the age of 27? This branch of the “27 Club” is decidedly less cool than the one Amy Winehouse was inducted into, albeit slightly less permanent. If you’ve ever thought to yourself, “hmm, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen my brow-bone”, then you know my pain. My eyelid is literally fat. I didn’t even know that could happen. So, if anyone walks past me and it looks like I’m auditioning for a part in a vintage Looney Toons cartoon, don’t worry. That’s just me exercising my eyebrow muscles. There probably isn’t a seductive rabbit sauntering past and causing my heart to beat out of my chest. Hubba Hubba.