I’m officially turning off comments for today’s post. When I do that it means one of three things:

1. The post is Freaking-A boring and I don’t want anyone to feel obligated to try their hardest, straining a butt muscle because of the effort, in order to produce some sort of feedback they don’t really want to write in the first place but feel totally obligated because I told them how much I totally love their blog and that they’re my blog idol, oh and PS- you’re shoes are totally cute I wish I could dress like you (ha ha, what a run-on sentence!). I mean seriously- who really cares what I had for lunch or the fact that Kuwait is changing their weekend??

2. I’m behind on my own obligatory feedback

3. I really don’t want to know what you have to say. I’d rather live in my ivory tower and not know that you totally hate me, disagree, think I need to be checked into the Betty Ford clinic, or any other tidbit I think you might want to share.

Today comments are off because of reason # 3. I’m going to appear judgemental and shallow and mostly just need to get this all out for therapy. I don’t need anyone telling me what I already know!

I’m totally feeling frustrated.

It’s sort of for a dumb reason, yet I continue to let the whole thing bother me.

By the way- when I tell you why, you’re going to think i’m a freaking idiot.

Here’s why.

Apparently the whole world (yes- the WHOLE world, even the Pope and the weird lady that lives down the street from you) is getting plastic freaking surgery.

Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a little. It’s probably only something like 97.4% of the world, but I swear, that 2.6% is not from Kuwait. Everyone I work with is getting something done right now. Three different people walked into my office today to tell me what they had done, are getting done, want done, want their cat to have done, and even what they want done to their 97 year old grandmother. Then the gossiping begins- which means I then get to hear who else has had, wanted, or is getting something done. The numbers are staggering. I’m not sure if it’s because people have less expenses out here and have the extra money around to do it, or what, but I feel like this small minority of people that have yet to have a 80 foot long garden hose shoved up my stomach to suck out the fat!

Do you think I’m crazy yet?

I know this sounds so dumb (hence why I turned off comments!), but I just feel frustrated about the whole thing. I go to the gym 3 times a freaking week, work my butt off, pass on crappy foods (uh, well most days), try my hardest to take care of myself, floss (that’s right! I freaking even floss for crying out loud!), and yet so many other people simply go into a clinic, go to sleep for 5 hours and come out looking totally hot and thin without breaking a sweat.

**Caution, Pity Party to Ensue**

It’s just not fair!! Harumph.

Yeah, yeah, I know what you want to say, “Why do you even care what other people are doing?! That’s so dumb. Just focus on you and don’t worry about other people.” I know all that crap already. The truth is, I don’t know why I’ve let it get to me so much. Perhaps it’s because seriously (really- no lie) there are several, several, several, people I know over here that have gotten work done. I’m constantly being surrounded by it, hearing about it, learning about it.

It’s not that I feel bad about myself- although, I did stare at my boobs for days on end after one of my friends got implants. Poor Will he had to field more questions about my body the past month than ever before. Of course, husbands are always the worst people to ask because they know what we want to hear. “No, sweetie, I think Pamela Anderson’s boobs are disgusting!” Yeah, Will, I’m so sure.

I guess it’s more that I feel discouraged. I think about how much work I put into health and how easy it could be to simply pay someone to take care of it for good. I think about all the ladies I work out with at the gym and how I know a lot of them have gotten things done (they even wear those tight girdle things to work out in post-lipo. It’s creepy), and for some reason I let it annoy me. They look freaking amazing because of all this money they’ve poured into themselves, and I’m sitting here letting Will have at my blackheads while I contemplate how I’m going to get rid of the hail storm on my butt. Hmm, quite a different picture.

So, what is real beauty?

Now when I look at people here, I wonder if that’s really them. Does that make sense? Maybe not…

I sit here day in and day out hearing all these stories, and begin to think, “Wow.. maybe I need to have something fixed too...” It’s pathetic. I’m not saying I would get something done, I’m just saying after listening to all these men and women talk about flaws and how they’ve had theirs perfected now it makes me feel sort of raw.

I know in my heart that “Charm is deceitful and beauty is fleeting,” and “Man looks at the outward appearance, but God looks at the heart,” but by golly tell the rest of the world that! We place so much emphasis on outward beauty to the point of inflicting pain on ourselves through plastic surgery, and it’s sad. As a Christian, I will openly tell you I struggle daily with focusing on having a beautiful heart instead of the perfect outfit. It’s such a fallacy so many of us struggle with, and sadly, I feel like it’s begun to consume my thoughts lately. Like I said, I’ve heard about it daily for the last few months. That doesn’t help either! I guess this should be something I pray about more often!

Hmmm, maybe I should throw in a disclaimer now that I’m almost done with this post. I’m not saying plastic surgery is bad. I don’t mean that at all. I know there are people that have to get it done for medical reasons, etc. I’m not posting about that today- I’m posting out of my own selfish frustrations about the people around me that are bombarding me with their information. Nothing else. Please know that. Heck, my mother is in the hospital as we speak because she got work done! Hopefully you get what I’m trying to say. It’s just about how it’s been at the forefront of my life lately.

So, I want to write a dozen more paragraphs, but I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough. Afterall, I do still want you to read my blog.

Tonight after work I’ll go the the gym like I always do, sweat like a man, and then go visit my mom in the hospital- once again to think, “Hey- maybe I need that done too.”

Until then- cheers to the fat girls.

Love your fellow chubby normal looking friend,

B-Love