Monday, February 25, 2008

perfectly insecure

how can a woman be expected to be happy with a man who insists on treating her as if she were a perfectly normal human being? - oscar wilde

i've sat around the past week or so feeling sorry for myself.

for some reason, every time i look in the mirror, i'm disgusted. i've gained a little weight around the tummy area, my hair is simply unmanageable,  and my face - as usual - looks like a 12-year-old boy's pimply bottom. i've stared blankly into the black hole of my skin thinking how gross i am,  wondering if "any boy will ever love me" and if "my personality can make up for my unsightliness." i bought makeup, contemplated a new shampoo, and put on fancy-shmancy clothes. still, nothing. (and let me tell you, alcohol doesn't help either)

i've seen all those dove ads about self-esteem and how the media is wrong (and would absolutely kill to work for their company), and yet, i don't believe it for myself. i've told my friends there is absolutely nothing wrong with them, that every guy who didn't want them was most certainly not worth in the first place, and yet, of course, i don't believe it for myself. i've told many of my friends also that there is absolutely nothing wrong with their body, and yet, when i look in the mirror, all i see is imperfection. again, i don't believe it for myself.

but yet - we get to my favorite issue. what the hell is "perfection"?

it's a feminist's bitch of a battle. it's an older woman's long-standing struggle. it's a "fat" woman's biggest nightmare. perfection. perfect skin, perfect hair, perfect body. and somehow they're all "t" words: thin, tall, tan, toned, tiny, tits, and of course, tender (okay - young, but i really love alliteration). what about other words? like talented, intelligent, articulate, cultured, wise, natural? why do have to fit in this little box? yet again, i struggle to understand our need for perfection. and yet i am the first one to notice a stretch mark on my inner thigh, or britney spears' most recent weight gain. why do i CARE, let alone NOTICE? 

of course, the issues here aren't just about my body. i'm completely and utterly insecure in every single way imaginable, just like everyone on the face of the earth (yes, even george clooney is insecure about something).

yesterday, my mother called me to get something off her chest, and i slightly interrupted, whining about how everyone i know in new york is engaged or married and how i don't think i'll ever be one of those girls. i told her i didn't think anyone would put up with my shit. i could see the frown on her face through the phone, "you don't know that." she had just spent 10 minutes telling me how everyone keeps expecting her to make their life better, and here i was doing the same damn thing. i then commented how i didn't want to change, not for anyone. that maybe i was a slight bitch, but i didn't want to change. of course, my mother simply said, "sometimes you have to change." by her tone, i could tell she meant it. i cried a little when i disconnected. all i wanted was my mother to tell me that i was beautiful and special, and yet - she did exactly what she should have - she smacked me over the head with honesty.

she's probably right, but i don't want to change. in fact, the only thing that should change is my insecurity, unhappiness and complete and utter ungratefulness. there is nothing wrong with embracing confidence, beauty, and of course, humility.

and just for the record, i'm not settling for some dude who will never treat me as the insane and flawed person i am. and neither should you - that goes for women and men. you're beautiful, and i love you. be who you are, and never sacrifice it. 

how about that for some good ole fashioned women empowerment?

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

D to the C

laurel and i went to DC this weekend to visit da beez, guitar playing joe, and an '80s band member.

long story short, the following things happened:

1. a little kid on the bus on the way down say about 15 times "those aren't trees," pointing at...trees.

2. we saw ROBOTS. one played the trumpet, one walked up and down stairs, and one was the proudest geisha in the world.

3. we saw an '80s cover band call the legwarmers. laurel almost got in a fist fight. liz danced like gob during "final countdown." and i rubbed against a guy wearing a Booger t-shirt.

4. we hugged the washington monument.

5. we saw lincoln's hat, the polio vaccine, and R2D2 and C3PO while dancing and singing Prince.

6. we got trashed at a seedy bar, subsequently landing us at an equally seedy bar, where laurel and i were kissed by a gay dude dressed like a bumblebee. i got a lap dance as well.

7. we saw PANDA BEARS. i decided that while no one was looking, they had panda raves.

8. we said hi to stephen colbert's portrait.

9. on the way home, laurel and i fell asleep and were woken up by the sound of the door almost falling off the bus.



oh, and i decided that if the trains ever run past midnight, i'm moving to DC.