May 31st, 2005


Things You Do Once and Never Again.

I've caught a bit of the flu, but that's no real excuse for allowing myself (along with D, who has no excuse) to watch the Miss Universe thing on the tv tonight.

Since I've never actually watched a Miss Universe competition before, I must admit that I was surprised by how difficult it was to tell each finalist from the other once the this-is-my-nation-I-have-no-name sashes were taken off. I'd also never given any real thought about how the socially supported beauty notion (long legs, tumbling hair, flat stomach, not being too ethnic, blah blah) gets real boring after about the seventh girl walks in front of you. In response to this, I found myself saying things like, "Who allowed her to wear that dress? That is a fucking hideous dress, man. Whoever that is screwed now. Do you know who that is?"

"No," D would reply. "Why aren't they wearing the sashes still? I'm lost without the sashes."

The much promoted swimsuit competition was a lot more stupid that I'd ever thought. Now, before I continue, I don't want whoever is sitting there to think, "Ben doesn't like bikinis." That's not true. I like bikinis just fine. Personally, they've never looked good on me, but perhaps this is just because of my own low self opinion and due to the fact that I don't wax my bikini line. I don't see why I should. Fuck that noise: hair is natural. You should learn to love it. But whoever decided that all the girls should wear white bikinis, heels, and makeup while they strutted down a runway should be slapped round a little. I reckon the only other place you can see all three combined into such a bland display of sexuality is hardcore pornography. And in the Miss Universe competition one of the questions is not, "How do you handle yourself in a bukkake situation?"

More's the shame, really.

Of course, all the girls say the same thing when question, but that's to be expected. It's all about being positive, loving your parents, doing everything you can to be the woman they'll love, but try not to have a sexuality. There is, however, some joy in watching one of the finalists get asked about the politics of their home country and flop around the stage like she's been shot in the forehead as she tries to turn the answer into a little essay about being positive and believing in yourself and rescuing puppies. There wasn't enough of these moments to justify my hour and a half spent watching it, but life is like that some times. Any day now I'll get back to reading and writing and working on my thesis. Any day.
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