Shallow, Pretentious, Self-Serving

I wish that acronym spelled something; but the only thing SPSS might ever mean to anyone is a reference to that stupid computer program we used in the Psych department. Unless of course I coin it; but I don't think I really want to be known as Shallow, Pretentious, and Self-Serving. At least not chiefly. Although I think we all have a little SPSS in us, and there's no shame in it (should we add shameless to the title and make it SPSSS? I think not).

Anyway. I discovered a great new blog today, The Dark Horse, starring the thoughts/advice of Andrew Gates (husband of Erin Gates, whose blog, Elements of Style, I've been following for awhile now. They are my new favorite couple; check them out!). He literally just started this month (like me!) and one of his posts broached the issue of his blog's identity; and narrowing the focus. And I'm all like "Wait-- identity?? FOCUS?? ...No!" Most successful blogs (certainly the ones I like) do have an identity, and a focus, but it's so not me. Still, I thought I'd take a look and see if I'd accidentally planted a seed of identity here, just in case. I think you will agree that I did not. I have, however, been consistently SPSS (I could probably add Obnoxious in there and spell SPOSS, but I don't want to be too self-deprecating). I'm not quite confident enough in my character to claim SPSS as my theme; but I did want to throw it out there that I am not too SPSS to not realize that I am being SPSS.

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Editors Note: It occurred to me after I posted this that SIPS is a way better acronym and kind of more accurate; since I am more Self-Indulgent than Self Serving. But I am also Lazy; so I will not edit this entire post. Especially not after I referenced my time spent in the Psych department. That shit's gotta be good for something.

Nip/Tuck

I haven't had plastic surgery yet because I don't need it. But as far as I'm concerned, it's inevitable. I once told a friend: "My biggest fear in life is not being able to afford Botox". And I meant it. Considering how cheap Botox is these days, this is not a fear to be ashamed of. It would mean I was really, really poor. But should I be ashamed of the fact that the thought of having wrinkles and not being able to do anything about them is completely horrifying? I think some people would say yes. I'm sure my mother would tout some nonsense about aging gracefully. But in this day and age, people are living so fucking long, and yet aging at the same rate. It's not right! Luckily; technology and medicine have evolved so that we can intervene and spend the same percentage of our lives looking decent as we did when we were dying at say, 40. So why wouldn't you do it? I think it's great. Don't get me wrong; you can't get through a gossip magazine without coming across an example of someone who went overboard under the knife; but this kind of proactive vanity is so underrated.


Now, you really can't go around saying that kind of shit without sounding like a douchebag. That's why I was so happy to stumble across this article Judith Newman wrote for Marie Claire. Inspired by her own recent liposuction, and the motives behind it ("I work for magazines, where the average editor's age is about 12 and getting younger - one day I expect to walk into a meeting full of fetuses - and where appearances clearly count.") Newman delves into the motives of others who have "had some work". A huge percentage of them were driven by a desire to succeed in the workplace. Facts, stats, and testimonials reveal that looks count where it counts - and they're well worth investing in. Studies show that physically attractive people tend to be more popular, more persuasive, and have greater self-esteem. Attractiveness has been linked to the likelihood of obtaining a job, obtaining a more prestigous job, and being hired at a higher salary.

Not being attractive (or at least feeling attractive) is as detrimental as being attractive is beneficial. A recent study reported that 67% of women ages 15-64 "withdraw from life engaging activities due to feeling badly about their looks." What activities, you ask? Among the "activities" listed are going to school, visiting the doctor, and speaking ones mind.

So if you can squash your self hate with a little help from a scalpel (and speak your mind without obsessing about your nose), what's the harm? I know I sound like a proponent of our looks obsessed culture. But everyone knows being fat and ugly sucks. Our culture is what it is. Maybe someday it will change; maybe you will change it. But it's a lot easier to change the size of your ass.

Adult Bathrooms

It occurred to me that I don't see nearly enough of them, based on my excitement by the one pictured above. Folded towels (that match the shower curtain!); clean countertops; bath mats! I am SUCH a slumdog.

Happy Valentine's Day!

I stole these pictures from the blog "Le Love" (where I clearly stole the title of my last post from as well). Enjoy!

Le Love

I think most of you would agree that since the recent reinstatement of my singledom my "love life" has been somewhat unconventional. There's never anything of any real substance going on; just a series of encounters (some of them random, some of them ongoing) with unsuitable men, with people from the past occasionally poking their head in... Wait, isn't that actually the definition of singledom? Oh well. Either way, I'm kind of tickled by how random and often funny things have been lately; but I don't know, maybe it's boring (upon examination, it's certainly conventional). I also don't know if it's even the reason I got to thinking about love on my run this morning (I refuse to attribute it to Valentine's Day, though the coincidence pleases me); but I just realized I have a pretty solid opinion on the subject, so I thought I'd share it.


First off, while we are talking about romantic love here; I think most of what I'm about to say applies to friendship love too. I need to acknowledge that because it has only just occurred to me in the past few years how much I really love my friends; and I've also recently taken notice of love that has converted, either from romantic to friendship or vice versa, both in my own life and that of my friends.

It is my newly formed opinion that there are two kinds of love: object-love and egocentric love. Object-love is the love you have for another person, their qualities and attributes. Egocentric love is the love you feel for someone based on the way they make you feel about yourself. They're definitely not mutually exclusive; I dare say they even feed into eachother; but they're very distinct. My experience has always been object-love; which is why I hate so many love stories, even the good ones. So often there's this great, otherworldly love depicted; but you're never made to understand what these two people love about eachother; or even how they could love eachother. Any notion of love at first sight confounds me. Slumdog Millionaire is a great example of this. Those kids spent like what, 5 minutes of their lives together? When they finally got to be together, did they have anything to say to eachother? It was actually in thinking about this movie that the concept of egocentric love really occurred to me. I was thinking about how Jamal continuously risked his life for Latika; and how, after the first time he tried to save her and prevailed; he must have felt so victorious, maybe even immortal. And maybe once he had associated that feeling with her; his everlasting love was born. But that makes it a narcissistic love, doesn't it? It's almost as if he really fell in love with himself. I think this is the sort of love that men usually experience, and need. And I think this is why my own relationships have failed thus far. There's always that mutual object-love there; but I'm no ego trip. This also explains why my exes seem to still be in love with me. After the initial pain of the break up is over and done with; they remember all the good times and wonderful things about me (I know, I know), and neglect to recall how fucking shitty I made them feel. Luckily, I do not have this problem. Nor do I think I'm really in need of any ego-centric love; but I do think that when I find it; that will be it. If there's someone out there who can break my ego ceiling; he's a fucking keeper.

What do you people think?

The Conception

Apparently there's something like 500,000 blogs out there. I'm willing to bet that most of them are self indulgent, narcissistic piles of (pro)verbal crap. I'm willing to bet this one will be too. But having sharpened my time wasting skills of late; I've started to follow a few blogs that I really like (and fully intend to plagiarize HERE), and it made me wanna give it shot.

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Editors Note: There was originally some nonsense in this post about this blog being a way of keeping in touch with people. That doesn't even make any sense. I think maybe I was trying to mask my self indulgence and narcissism. Or maybe I had some weird, multi-authored blog fantasy. Either way, I'm over it; and the friendship drivel has been removed.