Dusie greeted me in the airport by poking me really hard in the arm and saying "So, have you seen any new Phonecians?"
She followed it up with this exchange:
D: You have wrinkles!
Me: Yes, I know. (subtext: grrrrr.)
D: Those are new. They're not too bad though. Not like mine. Are they from stress?
Me: Dehydration.
The irony is that hers are much worse than mine--she is a fair and freckly redhead with a history of terrible sun damage as a child, smoked for 8 years, the whole AZ living thing--and I am 3 1/2 years older. The wrinkles are a recent development, and they are more like smile lines. I blame the move to full time contacts wear (glasses hide a multitude of beauty imperfections) and squinting into the sun while driving.
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