Friday, May 6, 2016

"celebrity"

A friend posted this on her facebook page. It's hilarious, right? Ridiculous. A funny poke at the silly things celebrities do that some people actually care about. While it looks harmless and silly, it brought up a few questions to my overly analytical brain.

1) How did these people become celebrities? What makes their comings and goings and outfits and boyfriends so much more interesting than the rest of the world's daily lives? Is a sex tape, being related to someone with sex tape, or dating someone with a previous sex tape our best bet for fame these days?

2) How long does it take to create that one picture to post on those social media outlets to get shared around the world to get you free stuff?

3) Aren't they hungry?

4) Isn't living with a constant wedgie just grueling? I mean, add constant wedgie to constant hunger pains and I would be the most unreasonable, insane person on the planet.

Some of these questions are obviously tongue in cheek and others are absolutely serious. When did we become a culture looking to these people for fashion, dating, life advice? What are we missing in our lives that we want to shop where they shop and look like they look and distort our faces to match their faces?

I'm raising humans here. I'm trying to grow myself. At this point, as I knock on the big 4-0, I'll be one of the very few un-botoxed, un-collagened, un-augmented or reduced people my age.

These pictures aren't real. The time and effort that go into taking one of these highly processed, highly photoshopped pictures is ridiculous. Yes, they are beautiful humans. No, they are not perfect.

Maybe that's why I struggle so much. It is impossible for me to feign perfection. My clothes are about as out of style as they come. My house has holes in the basement and kitchen ceiling, not to mention popcorn ceilings, which, according to our realtor, are about as bad as things can get in a home. My kids aren't the best at everything and they argue sometimes and they still choose mismatched clothes and balk at taking showers and I lose my temper sometimes, too. I'm just here in real life. I'm a reasonably intelligent human being, buying in to the lies that my real life is eight billion degrees removed from the real life of my friends. That's dangerous. And silly. And stupid. Therefore I can't even begin to compare my life to that of celebrities.

I guess I'm just reminding myself that we're all doing the best we can. And we're all craving connection and acceptance and love. And if I start looking for that in the world, I lose. Every time, I lose.



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