Blogs Are Stupid

Doesn't anyone believe in Dear Diary anymore? What happened to the joy of putting actual pen to paper? And why does every ordinary Jane and John think they can write well enough to burden the world with their scribblings? It’s a mystery that badly needs solving. My first entry contains my thoughts about blogging and will set your expectations. The rest will probably be stream of consciousness garbage, much like you’ll find on any other blog. Perhaps we will both come away enlightened.

Monday, April 23, 2007

Our Own Worst Critic

As I mentioned in a recent post, I've resumed a fitness regime after having abandoned it for the better part of a year. I wanted to make sure I was firmly established in my routine before doing any sort of documention in regard to progress.

This has always been my standard operating procedure, because truthfully, I'm afraid to take "before" pictures and measurements, only to have my enthusiasm peter out and then be left with nothing but a couple snapshots of backfat and batwings as a glaring testimony to my apathy.

I'm seven weeks in now, and I decided it was time to take stock.

I stripped and stood in front of the bathroom mirror with a tape measure, trying not to notice that the phalanx of glaring lights illuminated every blemish, ripple and roll.

I stared down at my toes to avoid looking at my midsection, and sighed in resignation as the dialogue of scathing self-criticism commenced.

Me: Jesus, we have some wide-ass feet.

Myself: Hm. I don't believe we have ever seen anybody else with perfectly square feet.

I: Somebody should call Guiness.

Me: We probably shouldn't paint our toes that particular shade of coral, then.

Myself: It does sort of draw the eye downward, doesn't it?

I: Well at least that takes the focus off of our knee bulges.

Me: Those are hereditary!

Myself: Nods

I: Hereditarily FAT.

Me: I'm really more concerned about our saddlebags.

Myself: We were just born curvy.

I (incredulously): Those aren't saddlebags, those are freaking foot lockers. You could store rations for an entire platoon in those things.

Me: Well...at least our stomach doesn't look too bad...considering.

Myself: Noooooo, but it could use a little toning.

I: Ladies...navels are not supposed to be FLUTED.

Me: It's not FLUTED! It's just a little...tired.

Myself: Girls, girls, it looks fine. At least it's still an innie, that's something, right?

I: Sure, if you think that makes up for the fact that it's three inches lower than it used to be.

Me: Well, it doesn't matter, nobody sees it anyway. And hey...the girls still look pretty good for our age.

Myself: Yes, they really do.

I: You two do realize that headlights are supposed to point straight ahead, don't you?

Me: Well they do...mostly.

Myself: Except when we sit down.

I: Or stand up. Or bend over. When the headlights on the van point different directions like that Husband takes it in for an adjustment.

Me: You think we need an adjustment?

Myself: Like surgery?

I: No, certainly not. We're perfectly okay with wall-eyed nips, right?

Me: Well, we do prefer to age gracefully.

Myself: Right. We believe in women looking like real women.

I: Real women with fluted navels and wall-eyed nips. I'm sure it will be all the rage soon. Hef oughta be calling any minute now.

Me: Why do you always have to be so negati....SWEET WEEPING JESUS what is that?!?

Myself: It appears to be a whisker.

I: Why are you freaking out? We've been dealing with chin hairs since we turned 35.

Me: Yes, but that one is like FOUR inches long! How could you let us walk around like that??

Myself: It's not really four inches long. Maybe two.

I: Relax...one chin hair does not a beard make.

Me: Where is that goddamned TWEEZERS?? I swear if Diminutive One used it to fish legos out of the toilet again I'm going to wring his neck.

Myself: Here it is. Remember? We were plucking our eyebrows in the bathtub.

I: While we're at it, maybe we should do some maintenance on those nose hairs.

Me: Oh god...not nose hair. Anything but nose hair.

Myself: Well, it's really only one nose hair. That shows.

I: It only shows when someone is looking straight up our nose. Get a grip.

Me: Well....I think we're being entirely too hard on ourself. Husband loves us unconditionally and he still thinks we are beautiful.

Myself: Yes, he does. We are very lucky.

I: Husband is blinded by love.

Me: He is not. He likes real women.

Myself: That's right. He doesn't like skinny plasticized women.

I: Riiiiiiight, he prefers fat kneed women with fluted navels and nipples askew. He's found his ideal woman, then hasn't he?

Me: Well, I guess the only thing left to check out is the caboose.

Myself, I (in unison): NO!

Myself: weeps gently

I: Really, haven't we had enough indignity for one day?

Me: Yes, I suppose so. It's not going anywhere.

I: Ain't that the truth.

Me: See...there you go again being negative.

I: I'm not being negative. I'm being realistic.

Me: Negative.

I: Realistic.

Me: Negative.

I: Rea-

Myself (still weeping): ENOUGH!! Dear GOD enough! Don't you know what you're doing to us!!

Me: I think we need a drink.

Myself: I think we need chocolate.

I: I think we need to get laid.

Me: Veto. That requires getting naked.

Myself: I have to agree. We're demoralized enough right now.

I: Alright, alright. How about a pint of Rocky Road?

Me, Myself: Now you're talking.

I stepped away from the mirror wondering why I see nothing but imperfection when confronted by my reflection. I am confident in my worth as a thinker, a writer, a problem solver, a manager and a mother (for the most part). Why then do I judge my physical self so harshly? Why do I hold myself to an impossible standard? Why do I care so much?

And then I thought...

I am really in no mood for all this introspective bullshit. I'm going to go have some of that ice cream.

And I did.

24 Comments:

  • At 8:05 PM, Blogger Oh, The Joys said…

    Ice cream... it should be called balm for the soul.

     
  • At 9:06 PM, Blogger Fairly Odd Mother said…

    The only thing worse than inspection of post-baby body in a mirror is taking that post-baby body bathing suit shopping. Sigh.

    I'm partial to raw cookie dough myself.

     
  • At 9:18 PM, Blogger Mom101 said…

    You are totally hilarious. I'm glad you didn't get introspective. Fuck it. Just laugh it off in total denial like most of us are.

     
  • At 9:57 PM, Anonymous mischief said…

    HAHAHAHAHA!! That was the best conversation I've seen in a long time! And (sadly) I can totally relate!

    Thanks for the lsughs. Nice to see I'm not alone with the chin hairs and wayward boobs.

     
  • At 10:03 PM, Blogger LizardBreath said…

    ROFLOL, you go girl. That was hysterically funny! You totally deserved the ice-cream.

     
  • At 10:45 PM, Anonymous heather said…

    Here's to Rocky Road!
    Thanks for the laugh.

     
  • At 2:12 AM, Blogger Christine said…

    Well crap. I thought me myself and I were a team. On the same side.

    But now I see the truth that was always there. We are our my own worst enemy. Fuckity fuck fuck.

     
  • At 2:47 AM, Blogger amber. said…

    Sometimes I really believe that a tummy tuck will solve ALL of my problems.

    God, I wish it were true.

    (sigh)

     
  • At 7:27 AM, Blogger Avalon said…

    Wall-eyed nips cracked me the hell up. Great post!

     
  • At 8:49 AM, Blogger Pendullum said…

    I: No, certainly not. We're perfectly okay with wall-eyed nips, right?


    i am certain I awoke my sleeping family as I gaffawed at 'I'

    I think I am going to have ice cream for breakfast!!!!

     
  • At 10:06 AM, Anonymous Andrea said…

    I'm laughing, nodding, commiserating, and telling my inner Myself and I to shut up, that I'm working on it. But dude, this is so true.

    Speaking of chin hairs, I just got rid of my three this morning. Although two of them are more like neck hairs. Why is that? Lord, I'm not even thirty yet.

     
  • At 10:40 AM, Blogger jchevais said…

    Wall eyed nips = very funny

     
  • At 12:32 PM, Blogger Natalie said…

    I have square feet too. They were lovingly dubbed Flintstone Feet by my Boyfriend. People wonder why I have such an abnormal love of shoes.

     
  • At 12:54 PM, Blogger Mrs. Chicky said…

    I love your inner dialogues. Love them! Myself, I don't go for ice cream. I go straight for chocolate bars. And then chips - 'cause you need the salty after that. And then more chocolate. Man, I'm hungry.

    Wanna lose weight fast? Come here and let me cough on you. You'll be flat on your back for a week but you won't have any appetite for anything except Benadryl.

     
  • At 5:22 PM, Blogger MommaK said…

    Wow. That conversation happened to me a week ago on vacation when I was drunk enough to try on a bikini...except I think I heard 6 of us.

     
  • At 7:50 PM, Blogger MommaK said…

    Oh, and coral is THE color this year. (I just looked at my fat coral toes and had to run back to tell you...)

     
  • At 8:36 PM, Blogger deb said…

    It's true, we're so hard on ourselves. I can't imagine any other animals sitting around critiqueing their bodies, it seems to be a purely human occupation.

    I'm no different.

    But you did make me laugh, thanks.

     
  • At 9:01 PM, Blogger Mamma said…

    We may have been separated at birth (except for that whole excellent writing thing). Wide feet, toes that are so short they don't peep. Love of coral nailpolish. Lumpy knees.

    That was hysterical.

     
  • At 10:21 PM, Blogger jen said…

    oh babe. from where i'm sitting, you are freaking gorgeous.

     
  • At 10:37 PM, Blogger Jess Riley said…

    We are our own worst critics. At least your critique was hilarious!

    I had a similar episode tonight, with two kinds of Blue Bunny ice cream. TWO KINDS, dear god.

     
  • At 4:57 AM, Blogger Kerry said…

    Omg, I laughed so hard!
    Are you me??
    By the way, when I shop for a bra and the woman asks what size I tell her I'm a 38 long.

     
  • At 8:20 AM, Blogger Kelly said…

    Incredibly witty and creative. (I'm making a note-to-self for next installment of ROFLs!)

    (I, too, have the fluted navel, flat feet, and decent-sized fat deposits. How can one carry 8lbs. babies and not?)

    Well done!

     
  • At 10:55 AM, Blogger In the Trenches of Mommyhood said…

    Hilarious! That made my morning, as I sit here at work desperately wanting to unbutton my khakis because the damn dryer SHRUNK them again!

     
  • At 12:26 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    A friend posted your "our own worst critic" today at antoher site.
    After I wiped the tears and blew my nose from laughing right out loud.....
    I realized that the Cybil in all of us is a scary little bitch!

    Thanks for the grin.

     

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