Why I'm mad at Renée Zellweger.

First of all, I’m not mad at Renée Zellweger for getting plastic surgery. It’s her choice, it's her face. Have at it.

And I don’t blame her one bit. She’s a 45 year-old actress in Hollywood. With or without an Academy Award, if you look your age you don’t get jobs. So she messes with her face to look younger. Perfectly understandable.

The sad part, of course, is that she may never work again because she no longer looks like Renée Zellweger. At any age.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m no heartbroken fan. I can take her or leave her. And I’m not one of those anonymous turds who cleared their path to Dickheadsville with nasty, hateful tweets.

But I am mad at Renée Zellweger and here’s why: 

She’s denying it.

Well I guess if you believe People magazine (and who doesn’t?), the actress has neither confirmed nor denied having plastic surgery. But in my house, if you ain’t confiming, you’re denying.

From People:

"I'm glad folks think I look different! I'm living a different, happy, more fulfilling life, and I'm thrilled that perhaps it shows." 

“My friends say that I look peaceful. I am healthy.”

"People don’t know me in my 40s…Perhaps I look different. Who doesn't as they get older?! Ha. But I am different. I'm happy."

I think I just threw up a little bit in my mouth.

Seriously sweetie pie, you’re not fooling anyone. Have you peeked at a mirror lately? It’s kinda obvious. And your coy “Oh, is my bliss showing?” act is embarrassing, insulting and getting on my last nerve.

Trust me, nobody believes that you simply woke up from a good night’s sleep looking like your third cousin, twice removed. So you got a little work done, so what?

Just put on your big girl pants and tell the truth. Stop perpetuating the fantasy that beauty is endless and happy people never get old.

You’re an actress, right? Act like a grownup.