Vanity is a Son-of-a-Bitch

I consider myself to be a fairly aware human being. I tend to perceive the world, not just float in it. I would say that I, too, am "Wide Awake It's Morning," but there seems to be one social norm that I cannot shake.

Tanning. Tanning is a son-of-a-bitch. I actually pay monthly in order to burn and shed my top layer of skin for some vain reason. I recently considered canceling this $30/month death fee, and then I realized that as soon as everyone else starts tanning, I will feel the need to jump on this atrocious bandwagon again.

Referencing back to my comment about it being a "death fee," I would like for it to be known that I do not believe this. This is most of the problem. Most people do prance around thinking they are an invincible clone of Goldie Hawn in "Death Becomes Her," but I don't know if tanning contributes to such ignorance. You see, skin cancer can be removed quite easily. My guess is that 3 out of every 10 people develop it in some form during their lives. I have just learned that the recent Nicholas Sparks book "Dear John" does have a character that dies from it, but considering I could write an entire blog about why Nicholas Sparks makes me gag and how he parallels the cheating strategies of Shakespeare, I do not find this relevant to my discussion. [okay. that was harsh. they both are smart if money is the primary goal]

Getting back on track, I am not scared of the coffin-like ball of sunshine that I pay for, and this is the problem. Most models who we consider archetypes for beauty are extremely pale. I think there is much more beauty in the pallid.

I could blame this whole controversy on the south because most southern girls (including myself) want to look like Eva Mendes or Halle Berry (it's true. we thrive to be black. we even pay for it), but that wouldn't be fair. So what the fuck is to blame here? Society? Myself? Halle Berry? I don't have the answer. All I know is that vanity is a son-of-a-bitch.