Misanthropic Meanderings

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Location: California, United States

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Tuesday, June 06, 2006

Oh so beautiful

I am in pain. Not a good, Ai Papi, sí, mas, kinda pain. That would be worth it. This is more of a "may have overdone it or need more stretching" pain that's making me hurt every time I throw a roundhouse kick. I know, 'so don't throw a roundhouse kick, duh'. But then I couldn't do my second workout of the day. I'd be lost.

Workouts are some funny modern thing we do to make up for not hunting or gathering and eating twinkies. I do a lot of them. It's funny that people think I'm doing it for something like beauty. Beauty is a funny thing to chase. It's too damned ephemeral to be defined, but we sure do know what physical beauty is when we see it. All that physical beauty can be lost if the personality underneath that lovely exterior is petty, small and evil. No amount of surgery or injections can change that.

We get all the lessons from childhood about "not judging a book by it's cover" and "it's what's on the inside that counts". Let's be frank here, that's total bullshit. The easier you are on the eyes, the more often you get better treatment. It's a goal with a lot uses but the corollary of that is written on the overstretched, botoxed faces of formerly beautiful women who are fighting age and wear with every known surgical trick known to man. Who are they if they aren't beautiful? Will they ever get to be special again? I feel strangely sympathetic for their losses. I mean, I work hard, fighting to climb up the career ladder, so setbacks are no big surprise for me. That has to come as a shock.

Beautiful people work hard at it. I think it means a lot more to them than it would to me. There's so much effort at clothes and hair and maintenance. And I'm not just talking about the girls. Real, straight men discuss hair gel, Bebe's new spring line and how much they ate that day, I can certify it. Unfortunately, I immediately became ultra bitchy on the grounds that I'd rather piss everyone off than be forced to hang out with them again. It's just too much effort to focus on achieving this crazy thing called beauty. All so other people can tear you apart looking for flaws? Nuh-uh! Pfft, in that case, I'd lie on a sofa all day eating lemon curd donuts.

So why do I workout and eat so much healthy crap? When I'm 80, I want to drive my own car, walk as much as I feel like, & still swing a mean kendo sword. The drooling, self-stooling modern aging thing looks sucky. I'll take some pain now, if it means everything will work until it doesn't have to.


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