Teenagers -- can we ban them?

M and I were at a big Chinese New Year's celebration on Saturday. I was thinking I looked pretty fine, despite only 45 minutes of getting ready and trying to navigate the different cultural expectations for female dress (how "formal" is "formal" for Chinese chicks?). I stepped into the bathroom to make sure I didn't have lipstick sliding down my face, only to come face-to-mirror with a gaggle of teenage (or at least college-aged) girls in bright shiny dresses. Man, it's hard when you know you're looking older. I realized it a couple of years ago when I did my first on-screen TV commercial (as opposed to voiceover) and discovered I have smile lines around my eyes that crinkle when I smile. It's not that I think I look ugly. It's more -- "This is not my beautiful skin!" Or perhaps, "who is that poor, tired lady?" Then I started disliking photographs of me more than usual, because flash cameras aren't so good to tired skin. And my sisters keep bragging that people think they're younger than me, despite the fact that one's 8 years older and the other sunbathes all the freakin' time. I'm only 36, people. Dang. Maybe it's just that last year was such a hard year and I need more laughter. I don't mind looking older. I do mind looking worn out. Ah! One saving grace! I have no grey hairs! Yet.