So sad

I am incredibly sad because a dear friend e-mailed me to say her darling husband has an aggressive cancer. He is in his fifties.

I am sad because young adults can’t find jobs. There’s even competition for unpaid internships.

I am sad because we don’t have enough time to get together with our families as often as we’d like…or should.

I am sad because we pay homage to a world of untalented, unappealing people whom we’ve annointed celebrities.

I am sad because we elect more and more greedy, big mouth, know-it-all people to represent us in our government.

I am sad because it’s getting harder and harder to take it easy.

I am sad because our medical system is falling apart before our very eyes.

Happy!

I am happy to be alive.

I am happy to have a loyal, caring family and friends.

I am happy to have the intelligence to handle difficult situations, the perserverance and energy to keep striving and the health to stay around another day.

And I am happy to have a family of new friends across the country with whom to share passions, wisdom and all the things we love.

TO ALL MY FOF FRIENDS.  YOU MAKE ME INCREDIBLY HAPPY.

Note: Sad Photo

I cringe when I think of all the hours I used to spend (desperately) waiting for the phone to ring, thinking….

Am I getting the job?

Is he asking me out again?

Was the medical test negative?

Did she get my message?

Are they coming to the party?

Did they like my presentation?

Why didn’t he call me yet?

No more. When I want to talk to someone who is important to me, get the answer to a critical question or pursue an essential goal, I make the call, write the e-mail or press for a meeting.

And I don’t give up easily. It’s usually a chore getting someone’s attention in this crazy world. You’re generally not a priority unless you make yourself a priority. If I have to send a dozen e-mails to connect, I send a dozen e-mails.

And I try to do unto others as I would like them to do unto me.  I believe in returning calls, answering e-mails and respecting that most of us have something we want to sell to someone else.

I’m FOF. I don’t get flustered, frustrated, angry or sad if someone tells me to bug off, says no or won’t respond. That is, after the dozen e-mails.

I just move on.

“I think the difference is striking. Primarily around your mouth. Thank you SO MUCH for doing this.” –LPC

“You look absolutely wonderful! I agree with LPC; thanks for sharing with us! That’s such a FOF thing to do, no?”–Maureen

Yes, Maureen, yes!!!!!  I had such fun blogging about my “natural lift” experience during the last six days, I didn’t want it to end.

Sharing a story with Shirley Wexner (center), from Joseph in Memphis, and Babbie Lovett

Do you suppose we were all born with a sharing gene that emerged when we turned FOF? That’s why I love reading your and LPC’s blogs so much.  And maybe why so many of us created blogs in the first place. AND why we’re so entrepreneurial.

Our sharing genes seem to be running wild on faboverfifty.com right now.  Many thousands of women have visited in the last 30 hours.  What’s even better, lots of them are staying to register and to share at least one thing…their fave perfume, a book or a bit of wisdom.

We’re 51 million strong. Move over, facebook.  You’re  kid stuff.

Monday, February 8

Three FOF friends and I meet in Times Square, where CBS will be taping a segment on FOF. Between takes, I remove my scarf and show my pals my jowl-less face. Susan looks at me closely and says, “I’ve got to get the name of your doctor.” Ditto Cathy. They want the lowdown on the procedures. I share it all.

“How soon after the work did you show your face?” Susan asks.

“Two days,” I answer. “I looked like I went a few rounds with Mohammed Ali but I felt fine.”

Tuesday, February 9

I return to Dr. Giese’s office. She is pleased by the progress and explains any little lumps and bumps I see or feel will smooth out over the next few weeks. One of three nerves on the left side of my mouth hasn’t improved. “It may only come back 85 percent,” Dr. Giese cautions. It’s so much better than it was two weeks ago, so I am not terribly concerned. It feels a bit numb, but is not affecting me.

I also see Nathalie for another magic-fingers facial. Every time I have a treatment, I can see an improvement in the tone and texture of my skin.  I worry how I’m going to live without them. Will I have to go to facial rehab?

Thursday, February 11

My ex and I

Another kind of face... Artist: Doug Brin

I’m at an art opening featuring the work of my former-husband, Douglas.  Marge and Nancy, whom I haven’t seen in decades, tell me I look great.  I reveal what I had done. I don’t hide my age.  Why hide this?

February 14, 2010 The launch party is four days away and, of course, I have nothing to wear. I go to Saks to buy something new (I have been to Bergdorf Goodman and Barney’s, but wouldn’t wear anything they had, even if they gave it to me for free.) A lovely Issey Miyake long blouse/short dress immediately catches my uplifted eyes.  I grab it.

At a Valentine’s Day buffet dinner party I get a few more good reviews on my refreshed face.

Wednesday, February 17

Nathalie sees me for one last facial. She calls it the Madonna Facial.  I don’t really care to look like Madonna, but it still feels grrrrreat.

Thursday, February 18

We race around the office preparing for the FOF launch event, which starts at 7 p.m. Francis from Butterfly Studio Salon comes to do my makeup. I throw on my new shirt over my new pantyhose and away we go.

PRE: JANUARY 15, 2010

POST: David and I at the FOF launch, February 18

I compare my before and after photos and I believe the difference is dramatic. I didn’t think I looked too bad before. But now I think I look fresher and more vibrant. Let me put it this way: My outer self better matches my inner self.

Thanks to my FOF friends who think I’m brave and like the results. Let me hear from you, no matter what you think!

Love, Geri