Microdermabrasion in your own home

If my friend, Shauna, were alive, she would say, "Never tell anyone." We were talking about plastic surgery procedures at the time, but I think buying this home microdermabrasion kit would fall into the same category. Her advice would be don't tell anyone you bought it.

But I can't keep these things to myself. I'm a blabber mouth. Part of the joy of buying this piece of vanity is to make jokes about it. As my father used to say, "You can't make fun of the ward choir unless you sing in it."

See how cleverly I made it sound as if I bought this cosmetic doodad just for laughs? Just so I'd have something to say on this sometimes blog?

Dear readers, I bought it with the hope that after six weeks, you would wonder how I could look so young at the age of sixty-eight. I bought it to reduce my pores, my surface wrinkles, the crinkles around my lips. I bought it to suck up the loose skin under my neck. I bought it to puff up any collagen that remains in my skin. I bought it to reduce liver spots.

It comes with three interchangeable diamond heads of varied size and abrasion. The smallest one is for getting down deep into the crevices on the side of your nose and mouth. This is as satisfying as popping blackheads, which is to say it's awesome.

Tom sat in the tub this morning, when I brought up a chair in front of the mirror and pulled out

THE KIT. I started up it's tiny horsepower vacuum to slurp up my dead skin.

"Do you mind?" he said. "Do you mind waiting until I'm out of the tub to do that?"

Maybe that's what Shauna meant. Beauty regimens should be private. Let them think it's DNA.

Blabber blabber blabber. Watch me. Watch me. Watch me. What about me? Huh? Huh?