Are you there G-d? It’s me Jen.
Hi. I know I don’t talk to you so much. I mean, I believe in you, I talk to you sometimes. I pray now and then. I would say we have a relationship. And yesterday, I called out to you. I needed answers. I was in a small dressing room, trying on a trendy pair of jeans. Black to be specific, with holes right at the knees. I put them on, button them …my first Thank G-d of the day…and then I look in the mirror, look down, and there they are, staring at me…….my knees! And they looked like the knees of that overly old tan woman from There’s Something About Mary.
And I literally screamed,”Oh my G-d!!” Did you hear me?
Standing there, I thought to myself, how did this happen. My knees aren’t even safe now? I mean, I heard the urban myth years ago that Demi Moore underwent surgery to beautify her knees. At the time I thought she was nuts. Now, I want to go find her and seek her wisdom like the people who climb the mountains in Peru to find the holy healers.
G-d, why do we age? I mean, can’t we get older but still look young, like Mandy Moore in This Is Us?
Why oh why do I have to slowly witness my physical demise? And why don’t you set it up that we get prepared for this earlier in life? I truly think the blows would feel less painful.
Maybe my gym teacher, instead of making me run an 8 minute mile, could have taught me knee strengthening exercises in anticipation of this jean trend.
Or at my first eye exam in my teens, I would have appreciated the eye doctor saying “okay, now you have astigmatism, but when you are in your forties, good luck reading Vogue, or your kids’ report card, cause that ain’t gonna happen.”
Or when I got my physicals from the pediatrician, a female, (or this article would have to take a different turn,) instead of making me walk a straight line to make sure I wasn’t like Deenie, that she would have noticed that I had nice healthy perky breasts, but then volunteered, “here’s a number for a plastic surgeon, hopefully he will still be in practice when you are in your thirties and after you have kids, cause your tits are going to sag terribly.”
Or when I was thirteen and dealing with teen acne, why couldn’t the dermatologist have said, “this gel will clear up your acne, but I will give you this care package of a silk pillowcase for your bed wrinkles, this eye cream for your eventual dark circles, and this Retin-a for your definitive skin pigmentation.”
Or when I was at camp, shaving my legs with a bucket on the steps of my cabin, maybe the old camp director’s wife could have told me the hair on my legs would be the least of my problems.
Or when I was younger and had stomach issues, why couldn’t someone have told me that the most important thing in my adult life would be pooping? And that a large part of my life would be discussing it, or that the best present I would ever receive would be the squatty potty?
But now, I feel like it’s all coming upon me. G-d, I am not superficial, well, I can’t lie to you G-d, you know me, but I am a good person anyway, and this is just getting to be too much.
So, Are you there G-d, it’s me Jen. Can You give me a sign? Any sign. Do I just give up, never to wear ripped jeans again? Do I save my money at the dermatologist, knowing that the house always wins? Do I trust that my husband will always see me as the young pretty thing he took advantage of after a night of drinking all those years ago?
Please give me a sign!!!
You know what? Now that I think of it, an article on Gwyneth Paltrow’s site Goop magically came upon my screen about the anti-aging benefits of the infrared sauna. And I kind of feel like Gwyneth speaks the gospel, so I think G-d, in speaking through Gwyneth, what you are trying to tell me, is, to fight the good fight.
Thank you G-d, I understand now. I’m off to Sephora.
Talk to you soon.