the price of pretty- one of the lessons learned in the OC

another ten minute quick write about my adventures while in the oc. . .

What I found there, there when I got on the plane, on the plane and arrived just an hour away, an hour away but a world away. Literally and figuratively. What I found there into the abyss of orange county-orange county the land of the privileged, the plastic, the hunter of perfection, the hunter for the next best thing. Uniqueness defined as the same. I found what I found there surprised me. It wasn’t an eating disorder or a plastic surgeon or a sugar daddy to care of me and my growing student loan debt. No what I found, what I found was although I don’t care to be like them because I do in fact like eating and reading books and the like the realness and suppleness of my breasts-slightly uneven-my butt-with a freckle on one cheek and part runner part woman-and my thighs-both a recipe of sports and heredity-and my hips- my womanly hips.

There might be genius, genius in the the stupidity that surrounds, surrounds me at the bars and the restaurants (all chains of course- no local make here), the lines of cars, cars all going the same way, in traffic again. Lines in the bathroom. Lines. Lines. Lines. Everywhere. Is that there might be genius in being good at just one thing, one thing only. Like being pretty, or being smart, or being funny. Maybe it’s too hard and too tiring to do it all. Maybe it is just too hard work to be pretty and smart and funny. Modern bride pretty girl so much easier than modern brilliant beautiful funny woman.

What I found there is much easier to be good at one thing. One thing by focusing on one thing on only your looks, only your looks you can be good at that and you don’t need the wit, the brilliance, because smiling and looking pretty will do. Just that easy. Easy, what I found is it is much harder, harder to do it all. To look pretty, say funny and smart and brilliant things. Things. What I found there surprised me because I got it. I got it. It is easy to buy it. Buy it. It is much harder to do it all. But do it all. I must do. Must do.

The overpriced label whore of clones, no they can’t put me in little boxes on that hill. I got it but I wouldn’t let the peroxide and the plastic get to my brain. My brain that would hurt me too much. Too much. Just like it hurt my neighbor at the bar to pay for her check or use, use her brain beyond her defined beauty. Defined beauty. Beauty defined meant something different to me. No one can buy beauty. Not the one I was looking for. What I found there wasn’t much at all.