This Post Needs More Cowbell...and Maybe Some Pecan Pie.

LOTS more cowbell. In fact, life needs more cowbell.

I've been drifting in and out of consciousness, listening to Michael Jackson in the moments of consciousness. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that he's gone. When I sit here listening to him, so young and full of energy with lyrics full of compassion or things that are just real, I feel like I have lost a friend. It's rather strange. I'm sure many people feel this way, but I can't even call myself an uberfan, really. I don't own any of his albums (I used to "borrow" my mom's cassettes. Haha, cassettes. I feel old.) or any other merchandise. You really don't know what you have until it is gone. It's actually made me think about my own mortality again. Yep, 20 going on 80.

It also bugs me even more now that Michael was a really attractive man and felt the need to get an effing cleft chin (I'm ignoring the whole nose fiasco. Everyone talks about his nose and I don't want to be everyone right now). I have a cleft chin. Half my family does. If none of us had one, I wouldn't miss it. The only cool part about having a cleft chin is the invention of Chinderwear, in my opinion. Thanks, Dr. Forrester, you magnificent bastard! I'll be getting my leopard print, bikini-cut pair as soon as I get out of my soon-to-be California debt.

However, I do know what it's like to hate one's own appearance and want to do a series of things to change it. Unfortunately the changes are never enough, because new flaws pop up. Self-acceptance is a bitch. It's like trying to climb Mt. Everest. You get halfway there and some stupid avalanche happens and knocks your ass down the mountain. Then you either drown in the ten feet of snow that you've just been buried in or claw your way out and start all over again. It's a perpetual battle for those of us with poor self-image. I think the one thing that saves me from drowning in the snow is the fact that I don't entirely loathe my personality. Yet in a world full of plastic, superficial robots, it doesn't feel like personality means crap to anybody.

That's probably reason #242434 for me being a hermit, constantly paranoid, and misanthropic about 99.8% of the time.

End of blog-therapy session. Someone now owes me $8000. I just passed a new law that says the patients need monetary compensation. Seriously. I'm poor. I have needs!