My Dear Neck ~

My Dear Neck ~

We’re not in our 30’s (or Kansas) anymore. Those were the days, huh? (Sigh.) (Sigh some more.)

So I saw some photos of us that were taken fairly recently. I bit the bullet and really scrutinized them. You’re not lookin’ too good, My Dear Neck.

And then just yesterday, while stopped at a stoplight, and with the sun shining in on us (ugh!), I caught a glimpse of you in the mirror. I thought something, like, was smeared on the mirror. I was wrong. It was clearly you. And me. Us.

Just like my thighs, you feel different to the touch these days. Sort of mushy. A lot more malleable. Kind of like that hot, melt-y candle wax that I was futzing with after last Saturday night’s dinner party. But with the appearance and tactile quality of burlap. And I thought only Ruffles had ridges! Dang.

Melted, malleable candle wax from last Saturday

On a positive note: There are no discernible wattles on you. Yet. The facial calisthenics have apparently been working!

Needless to say, these past couple of months have been a real eye-opener for me (well, as open as my eyes can get these days).

So I’m writing to you, Dear Neck, because I’m concerned. I’m worried about you. Because you look drawn. So tired. So worn out. And I don’t know what to do about you.

Turtlenecks are out. I’ve always hated them. Plus, I believe they make us look even shorter. So that is definitely not an option.

I was thinking, what about those new chunky choker necklaces that are so popular now? Kinda like this one:


This would do the trick, but uggggg-ly. So I think not.

Or perhaps I should buy a variety of pretty scarves, like these:

Who are we kidding? We’d never, ever, ever look like this.

And I don’t want you pricked, prodded, lasered, jolted or shocked. And being cut upon, My Dear Neck, is unthinkable. At least for now…

So I talked to my dermatologist Dr. G the other day. He said that I could put the Retin-A cream (that he gives me for my crepe paper eyes) on you, My Dear Neck. “Just a light coating,” he admonished. So let’s try that. And I’ll try not to over-slather you.

In the meantime, Dearest Neck, please know that I’m thankful for all your support (literally) these past 54 years. Let’s continue, you and me, to fight off the Invasion of the Wattles, for we’re in this thing for the long haul, together.

Love ya,


One Response to My Dear Neck ~
  1. Kjrista
    July 2, 2012 | 11:31 am

    I can’t figure out “what the heck with the neck” EITHER. Its always in action but is looking…… well not as good as it should. If your magic cream works…..please let me know and I’ll “slather” too. Until next time…

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About Me

It's true! Despite playing defense virtually all my life against the onslaught of this sometimes-ugly aging process, it...has...arrived! I naively thought I would escape cellulite (the Cottage Cheese) and crow's feet (the Crepe Paper). But I didn't! And why didn't anyone tell me about this emotional roller-coaster that comes with being an Empty-Nester?! My name is Jodie Barringer Myers. I'm a 54-year-old Friday/chardonnay/ hydrangea-loving wife/mom/court reporter living in Sacramento (Gold River!), California. Writing is cathartic for me. And because I look to find humor and humility among the rubble that is my now very peri-menopausal self, I'm hopeful that you will laugh, cry, learn, enjoy and, most of all, relate to what I have to say. After all, we're all in this together, right?

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