I often think about stuff like that. Mostly I think about Eldon dying, & then having to date. Well, not really having to date. In fact, I don’t think I’d date at all. Just too many self image issues to consider letting someone else on this planet see me naked.
But I imagine that if I did date, seeing a picture of his ex (preferably dead ex – way less complications that way) would be mandatory, because in this scenario I obsess over not being with a man who had a very beautiful wife. I know it’s sick and wrong for it to be a competition, but there you have it. I’m very competitive, and would forever be thinking about what was going through his mind. Stuff like “Well, I had it good once. I guess twice would be too much to ask of the universe.” Or “Gee, Betty Jo’s tummy wasn’t flabby like this. I sure miss Betty Jo.”
It’s possible that he wouldn’t be so shallow, but I wouldn’t take any chances. Which is why, for the most part, the plan is to just grow old gracefully alone if Eldon kicks it.
A game I play a LOT in my twisty head is End of the World Match Game. If I’m in a room full of people, my mind wanders from whatever is going on (you can be sure I’m zoning out about something after the first five minutes…) and starts to think about things like: if it were the end of the world, and these were all the people left, and we had to choose mates, and the men chose, who in this room would pair up? It’s like a morbid game of dodgeball, and you’re afraid you’d be the last one picked for the team.
The funny thing is, I think the most attractive women are not conventionally attractive so much as they just have a quiet confidence about them. Like they’re exuding the thought “You’d be lucky to be with me. But you can’t be. Which makes me unattainable, & infinitely more attractive.”
And there’s just nothing as unsexy as insecurity. You can take a perfectly averagey-to-attractive woman, and if she obsesses about her looks, her exuding sounds more like “I’m attractive, right? Please tell me I am. How about if I make this duck face? That selfie I posted yesterday took me 20 shots to get right. Oh? You like it? You think I’m a pretty lady, right?” Which makes her ugly.
I’m in the middle of those scenarios. Daily selfie posters are the most annoying people on the planet. Like if a day goes by and someone doesn’t validate them, they’re crushed. That’s an ugly house of cards right there, and I wish the planet would STOP telling them every fucking day how beautiful they are. And because you’re obligated to tell them they’re beautiful, you do it no matter what, so those opinions are not to be trusted.
I don’t have that quiet sexy thing either, so on the scale between those two, I fall slightly towards ugly selfie chick, but not so far that I would ever consider going completely over to the dark side.
ALL of this sounds like fishing. Nobody on the planet is allowed to say stuff to me like “But you’re a beautiful lady!” I’m just sharing my insecurities as a way to work through them and maybe make some other people feel less alone, so keep your selfie pie hole shut on the matter.
It’s not that I am not grateful for the looks God saw fit to grant me. I estimate that I fall squarely in the middle – half the women on the planet think I’m an ungrateful whore and would give their husband’s right nut to look like me. The other half would kill themselves if they had to look in the mirror and see what I see. So I’m mostly happy. No complaining here. God gave me enough to trick a man into marrying me, but not so much that I would abuse my beauty powers.
But if I die and Eldon marries Betty Jo, with her tiny fucking waist and tight abs, I will haunt them both.