Thursday, January 15, 2015

Vanity Fair

Vanity is one of the Seven Deadly Sins. I know this. And yet I simply CANNOT resist the urge to surreptitiously stare at myself in every reflective surface I see.

The exterior of the science building at my college was tiled with mirrors, and my roommates and I made fun of each other for trying to secretly check ourselves out every time we walked by. So much so, that we gave the caught-red-handed "sneak-look" in any mirror its own code word: the "BMC" after the building's name, the "Bio-Medical Center."

That was 20 years ago, and the problem has only persisted with age and technology. Here's how most of my interactions go on the following devices:


Colleague: "So, what I think we can take from this line of cases is ..."

Me (Silently): Why does my left arm look so flabby? Oh wait. That's actually my right arm. Ugh, is that a roll of fat on my BACK? Can all the people in Anchorage tell that I have a zit right now?


Friend: "So I just started a great novel that I think you would love ..."

Me (Silently): Why does my forehead look so shiny and big? Am I going bald? Or maybe my hairline is receding?


Family Member: "So yeah, anyway, your great aunt just had a colonoscopy and ..."

Me (Silently): Wow is that a new wrinkle? Why does that piece of skin around my chin look so droopy all of a sudden? Is that the first sign of turkey neck? Fuck!!

And yet, all I want for Christmas is a "selfie stick."

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