Kick 'em When They're Up

I've talked before about being a genetic cesspool. A very pretty, very smart genetic cesspool. It has been a running joke with another friend of mine who is also very pretty and very smart and who happens to be a genetic cesspool that you simply don't want to dip a toe in. We always laughed at "those girls" and told ourselves that "at least we have looks and brains." It made the situation funny and gave us a bit of self confidence back.

Don't get all judgemental if you haven't been there. I'd give you my shoes to walk in but they aren't going to fit you.


I found out, recently, that due to my genetic-cesspoolness, the limited and rapidly decreasing value of my looks is about to hit the wall and then slide down it in a pile of stinking goo. Not that I have much looks left over from the wild days of youth, but its been enough to get by. Anywhoo, the treatment for my cesspool genetics is going to really destroy any vestigial looks that I have now.

That's when I found out how vain I am.

When I lauged and said that all I had was my looks and brains, I thought was being funny and self-depreciating. Apparently I wasn't.

The question isn't really "Will you love me when I'm ugly?" but "Will I love myself when I'm ugly?"

I don't know the answer. I thought I put more value on myself than this, but maybe not. When is fate going to stop kicking me in the face? And, I mean that pretty literally this time. Ha. I said "pretty."