On the heels of my "Make-Believe" post, here I sit watching the Miss Universe Pageant.
I already know Miss Puerto Rico won (god love the Internet), so thought I'd take a gander at the official Miss Universe Pageant site. Clicking around, I found myself on this page that allows one to look at each of the contestants.
As the 20 semi-finalists were called out, I clicked each of their links (under "Select a Contestant") and then clicked "Video" to hear what they had to say.
Let me just say right now that if I were judging, Miss Puerto Rico would NOT be the contestant who won. Good god, that woman cannot interview for shit. Giggly and ridiculous saying she will be the same person today as she is in 10 years - what?! Who the heck wants to have the same personality in 10 years? sigh
I would have chosen Miss Mexico, hands down. She was mature and gracious and seemed very intelligent.
And some of these girls are far, far, far too skinny. But, apparently, that's all the rage.
I don't know what compelled me to write this post. I used to lay with Teresa and Elizabeth on the livingroom floor as we "voted" for our favorites (I know the girls were much fatter back then!). We'd stuff popcorn (popped on the stove) into our mouths and chase it with Grape Nehi, making purple mustaches that wouldn't wash off until we'd been in Elizabeth's pool for a couple of hours the next day. We were the cattiest during Miss America and Miss Universe - using up our yearly portion of cruelty towards other women in two three-hour blocks.
I'm mentally laying on the floor with all of you, making goofy (and not-always-nice) comments. And wishing I could have been so beautiful as these women to have half the opportunities they will have in their lives. I submitted my belly to the Shape of a Mother site and it's painful to see my body there. I speak mean words because of my jealousy. How can a 44-year old woman remotely be jealous of ultra-skinny women with nothing as glorious as my own life, history, children, partner, vocation, future?
The sad reality is, I am. Sense, or no sense.
wiping tears and getting up to go pop popcorn - in the microwave