You know what's weird? I spend all my time improving myself, reaching for perfection, and I just realized that perfect things kind of creep me out. I realized this while I was pondering what I would do if I had three wishes. One of my first thoughts was that I'd wish I had a sexier body - not a perfect body, just one that was sexier than the one I have now. I thought, "why not a perfect body? By definition, there wouldn't be anything wrong with it." And I realized that perfect bodies kind of creep me out. I don't know why. I mean, I guess it's kind of like, if your body was perfect, what reason would you have for wearing clothes? What features would you pick on when you stared in the mirror? What would you complain about at girly sleepovers? It'd be like, everybody's saying how much they hate their bodies, and you'd just be sitting there all like, "I don't have anything to say, because my body's perfect."
Wait a minute. Whoa. I think I just discovered another key facet of life.
Imperfections give life meaning. If everything was perfect, why would you be around?
I will follow that thought further in a later post (and on a side note, I think one of my other wishes would be that my hair grow much, much faster. Then I could be changing it all the time).
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