To Inject Or Not To Inject

Lately I've been playing mediator to an intense internal debate: to inject or not to inject. Let’s not jump to any conclusions here; I’m not talking about injecting anything myself. Should I decide to become a heavy illicit drug user I would definitely snort my heroin or cocaine, because I imagine drugs aren't nearly as enjoyable after having to stick a needle between your toes and risk a gangrene infection, ultimately starring in your own version of Requiem for a Dream? Obviously I have no intentions of becoming an addict to anything other than watching Glee. I don't really have to think about it much since I'm pretty sure that heroin chic look died out somewhere in the mid-90's, along with Pogs, Tamagotchi, and the "Rachel" haircut. Whenever I fear it is reappearing, I remind myself that hipsters also ride fixed gear bikes and therefore have adopted a healthier lifestyle that their predecessors.

My debate is far vainer than drug use. To Botox or not to Botox? This is the question that plagues my late-20's psyche (yes, I'm admitting my age this one time only). Is 27-years-old too young to be injecting poison into my forehead to reduce the deepness of the two lines forming a prominent number "11" between my eyes? Am I succumbing to some SoCal ideal of beauty? Or is it possible that I just am terrible at maintaining my eyebrows and want to draw as little attention to them as possible?

I've been talking about Botox for years to pretty much any audience that will listen and get mixed reviews. Some people are anti-plastic surgery and will complain about a crooked nose or thin lips, but harp on those who choose to do something about their double chin. A co-worker of mine told me all about how she wanted a minor tummy tuck to fix her abdomen after bearing two children, but said she wouldn’t because she didn’t want to “set that kind of example” for her daughter. The comment from said co-worker prompted my next question: why would you tell your four-year-old that you are getting a tummy tuck? The kid has more interest in chasing a balloon around the room or finger painting than any deep debate on altering your looks. Considering the little girl isn’t far beyond the age of knowing the difference between boys and girls, she may freak out thinking that people would possibly lose their belly buttons if you told her you were getting your tummy tucked.

I’m definitely not the kind of person who cares if others nip and tuck away. If you want bigger boobs, then make them as big as your back can handle them. Fuller lips, straighter nose, or higher cheekbones? Go for it! In fact, I love people who get plastic surgery; especially those who have made it so obvious that I can enjoy staring without them getting offended because they don't even try to hide it, but are intensely proud of it. I avidly follow Coco whatever-her-last-name-is who is married to Ice-T on Twitter because I love her postings of Titty Tuesday and Thong Thursday. Nothing transitions me into a better hump day than Coco’s F-cups jammed into a DD bra or makes my Friday Eve more exciting than looking at her ginormous altered ass. No wonder Ice married her; I could balance objects in some spin-off of Jenga on that badunk all day long.

At this point in my life I am only interested in correcting these two little lines between my eyes. Now I surely will tuck and lift and correct anything that happens to me after getting knocked up and popping out a baby, but that is years away and who knows how my body and gravity will react to carrying around a watermelon for nine months. I like my current physique and a healthy diet combined with exercise and the occasional binge drinking session have held it together quite well. Baby Mya will surely do some damage that crunches and Lean Cuisines can’t fix. I've pretty much put it in my future baby budget: crib, stroller, car seat, reconstructive surgery.

Part of me wonders what others think of the idea of a woman in her 20's getting fillers and freezers injected in her face, but part of me doesn't care at all what people think. I think I care mostly out of curiosity so I know who else is injecting. Together we can change the world to be more accepting of young injectors. Most of my close friends and family are against it, but that doesn't come as a surprise. One friend went as far as to say he "likes" my lines so I shouldn't get rid of them, which is utter bullshit because I doubt he even noticed them before I pointed them out. I told him I liked his back hair and I think he got the point.

This whole idea of Botox quickly became less of a debate and more of an obstacle course to get the smooth forehead of my youth. I had a few barriers to break down before actually making a concrete decision. First, I needed to decide on where to go and who to let near my eyes with a syringe full of botulism. The San Diego Reader is packed full of all of these filler and Botox coupons every week, so I knew that there were more places to get smooth skin than places to get fish tacos. Honestly, I don't believe discounted vanity procedures. That's sort of like getting your hair done at a beauty school; you really don't know what you are getting yourself into. I finally found a place someone recommended who looks fantastic with her minimized wrinkles. It took me a while to find someone who was willing to admit to getting Botox, but her perfect forehead and lack of crow’s feet at age 62 wasn’t fooling me. I swear it took 15 years off her, at least.

Second, I needed to fund this endeavor. I quickly learned that one area of Botox is pretty affordable and that wouldn't be an issue, since I have paid upwards of $50 to have someone do my eyebrows well enough that I don't walk out looking like Quasi Moto. I bet it’s pricier in areas of the country that only have one plastic surgeon who actually only went to dental school, but no one seems to know the difference. I also learned I wouldn’t even need to cut coupons for a good deal since a lot of places give referral discounts or first-time customer rates. Once I’m hooked I won’t even care how much damage it does to my bank account, as evidenced by the small fortune I have spent on highlighting my hair since age 16.

The third and final obstacle I needed to overcome, and still have not conquered, is my sincere laziness. I just don't want to waste my afternoon going to a place to get these injections that take less than ten minutes to complete, including checking in and swiping my credit card. It's not even like I do anything important after work most days besides sleep and play Angry Birds, but the thought of driving 20 minutes to get this done makes me feel like I need a nap. I'll hike for 4 hours on the weekend with no complaints and a blissful smile on my face, but forget a five minute drive to Sephora to replace my mascara. You would think I was avoiding getting my kidneys removed with the amount of effort it takes me to get to the mall for beauty supplies. Maybe I’m subconsciously protesting my own desire to look pretty, because I’m even too lazy to order vanity supplies online regardless of free delivery and gift offer incentives.

Ultimately, I think what will keep me away from erasing these distracting lines will be my lack of true inspiration to get to the doctor, a term I use loosely since I don’t think there are any medical requirements to be allowed to stick needles in peoples’ faces. Maybe by the time I make an appointment and get in my car it will be even cheaper and people will be less judgmental of my need for a smooth face. There's something about inching up and soon to be hitting 30 that makes me feel like my friends will be more open to a few adjustments here and there. I mean, you can get extensions if your hair won't grow, you can dye it if you don't like the color, and you can plaster on some fake nails if yours don't grow strong and long enough. A few little pin pricks later and I'll have a wrinkle free face while other people are still spending hours and money on creams and facials that don't do anything. I'll be back to saying I'm 23 and people may actually believe me.