Sunday, June 03, 2007

I'm not a model

I keep swearing the show off, and every time it's on, I seem to have nothing better to do, so I watch. Ever want your self-confidence destroyed? Watch America's Next Top Model. I'm an intelligent, goofy, likable woman, and I'm not in terrible shape... why do I pick every single flaw of mine apart after I watch the show? I'm not a model. I don't secretly desire to be a model. I'm certainly not into fashion and makeup and being a diva (unless a blog diva counts, lol).

The girls are so thin... I remember being model thin, and all I wanted to do was hide myself. While both a curse and a blessing, I do have curves. I'm shorter than they are. I have worse hair. I have lanky arms and wide hips and freckles all over my face.

Oh, yeah, that bothers me too. You ever see a model with freckles? No. And do you know how hard it is to wear make-up when you have freckles? Huge pain. But I LOVE my freckles, regardless of make-up trials.

So after watching the show for, um, *cough* hours, I ventured out to take my grandmother some fresh strawberries that we picked yesterday. Grandma updated me on the latest gossip at her retirement facility (where I worked my way through college), and I described all of my dancing adventures and boy woes to her. I learned a bit more about Grandpa that I didn't know--he died when I was 12, so I didn't get to know him as an adult.

I visited with a few of the other older women at the facility. Being around them, listening to their stories... it puts life back in perspective. I hear about life and death, and everything else melts away. Right now, I couldn't care less about what I'm wearing to go dancing tomorrow night. My life isn't going to be consumed with the latest trends or fancy hairstyles. A big heart, a careful ear, and a thoughtful personality will get me where I want to go.

This afternoon, I wanted adventure, but adventure was not what I needed most. Sometimes, when you least expect it, you realize that what you need is already in front of you.

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