Beauty and the Hypocrisy Beast

Previously, on our show:
Our heroine had just confronted the nasty Hypocrisy Beast, which was dressed in the guise of the Car-Driving Cell Phone Talker. After taking several nasty blows, and just when defeat seemed imminent, our heroine managed to rally her defenses and strike a killing blow to the monster, by using her magical Bluetooth Headset. The Hypocrisy Beast screamed, writhed and fell to the ground. Our heroine was victorious and scraped, but she drove triumphantly onward.

This week:
We join our heroine in the midst of yet another struggle. Unbeknownst to her, the Hypocrisy Beast had not died, but was merely wounded, and apparently, not THAT badly wounded after all. The Bluetooth Headset had simply stunned the creature, causing it to fall over in surprise and dismay, but later it had awakened and crawled off to its cave to plot revenge.
The latest battle began on Friday. Our noble heroine had willingly taken her time and volunteered to help her mother clean out sheds and box up stuff to give to charity. To help her reach this goal, our heroine had donned armour of a pink tanktop, blue and white shorts, tennis shoes and a pony tale. After several hours spent at this task, our heroine was sweaty, dirty and tired. She needed a shower, badly. But, being the ever helpful and loving person that she is, she again agreed to help another person in need by driving her sister to school so that she could take a test and get a job.
For our new audience, here is the point in the story when we do a little bit of background - be it flashbacks, or whatever - so that you can understand a little more about our heroine and her struggle. This week's flashback will take the form of a narrative, voiced over by none other than our heroine.

"I hate how vain and shallow people are. I hate that tv, radio, magazines, newspapers, books, videogames, etc are all telling me that unless I dress in the height of fashion - regardless of how ridiculous (Ugg Boots, anyone?) that fashion may be; unless I wear makeup that covers up every single, little flaw; unless I do my hair in such a way or wear the proper windshield-sized sunglasses; unless I go out of my way to do all of this (and more), I am not worth a person's time. Guys will not want to date me; people will not want to be my friends. I will not be liked for the person I am on the inside, because CLEARLY if I am not willing to decorate my outside so heavily that I am unrecognizable as the person that God created me to be, nothing on the inside could POSSIBLY have merit. I hate that my body shape (being hourglass curvy, but having more curves than the normal hourglass) is thought to be something of an embarrassment; that because my stomach is not flat, my arms are mushy and I normally have something of a five o'clock shadow on my legs, I am not GOOD enough. I hate that nobody seems willing to take the time to look past the out-of-style clothing, the Rubenesque figure and the normal hairstyles to get to know the person underneath. I fight with myself on a regular basis about the idea of makeup. Why should I wear it? Am I not good enough without it? I haven't yet resolved that issue, but I am coming to terms with it. I don't wear makeup all the time, and when I do, I wear VERY little. But, all this aside, I do not obsess over this issue. I just live the way I want to and I mostly ignore the idiocy around me. If people want to overlook me, that's fine. Less work for me. To quote the very famous Stuart Smalley "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it, people like me." Thank you."

The Narrative being ended, our heroine sat in her car, reading and waiting for her sister, unaware that the Hypocrisy Beast was creeping up on her. A school bus pulled up behind her and children filed out. She looked up. Nothing terribly interesting. She read a few more sentences and then looked up again. She saw a man about her age. Wow, she thought, that guy is REALLY good look - wait. Is that - ? It can't be. Is that CHRIS? And lo and behold, it was. It was Chris, a former classmate. And the Hypocrisy Beast pounced, striking from behind and smashing her in the back of the head. Please don't let him see me. I look horrible! I'm all sweaty and my clothes are old and ratty and my hair is a MESS! Please don't let him -
"Hey Jacqueline!"
"Hi Chris." dang it. he recognized me. CRAP! Why does he have to look so good and I look like this?! It's NOT fair!

Unfortunately for our heroine, the Hypocrisy Beast won that round. Oh, she braved it out and pretended like she didn't care, but the Beast had won all the same. So, the fight will continue. Our heroine may be down, but she is not out. Warning to the Hypocrisy Beast: Your days are numbered.

And you are?

I: Hi! My mom sent me in to pick up a CD with pictures of a house on it.
He: Oh! Is your mom Halene?
I: Yes.
He: Here's the CD. Are you the daughter?
I: ......
I: ...... uh, no. Actually, I'm the son.






(actually, I didn't say the last part, because he was being SUPER nice and I didn't want to crush his feelings. But I WANTED to.)

The Moral of the Story?

If you get up at 5 AM to go running and your stomach is screaming at you for the Mexican food you ate yesterday, just do yourself a favor and crawl back in bed until the agony is over, because otherwise, I guarantee you, at some point during your run, you are going to want - nay, need - to stop and embarrass yourself in public.


Thank God for Burger King.

I hate it when the TV whistles

and other random annoyances.

I hate it when the TV whistles. Especially because it only whistles at a frequency that dogs (and apparently I) can hear.

I hate it when I'm watching a cartoon and I can't figure out which actor is playing a character, but I KNOW I've heard that voice before.

I hate having to dry off when I get out of the shower. Too much work.

I hate it when my dog wakes me up an hour before my alarm goes off and won't let me go back to sleep, and then when I let her out, she proceeds to bark at the neighboring dogs, which keeps me awake anyway.

I hate it when my dog wakes me up 15 minutes before my alarm goes off.

I hate it when I am really looking forward to something happening (eg: school ending, family reunion, etc) and then time. drags. on. at. the. slowest. possible. rate. ever.

I hate it when I get a song stuck in my head. Now - I'm not talking a once-in-a-while having "the barney song" stuck in my head. No I'm talking about having a song stuck in my head at least once a day for several hours. And then the song will change. It's like my own personal radio station. Only, without DJs and with a really random song selection, and also, unfortunately, commercials.

I hate it when I shave my legs, and before I get out of the shower, feel my legs against the grain to make sure I haven't missed any spots, and then I get out of the shower and as I'm drying off, I discover an inch by inch patch that was apparently invisible and resistant to the razor.

I hate it that in Quiznos commercials, they say "MMMMM (that's FIVE m's) toasty", but that they only WRITE "MMMM toasty".

I hate it when I'm lying in bed at night and it's too hot for covers, so I've kicked them off, but then I realize that the monsters under the bed (or in the closet, or sitting in the middle of the floor) can eat me because I don't have my protective shielding on, so I have to cover up, because it is better to ROAST than to be eaten. (and I can't convince myself that the monsters aren't there.)

I hate it when they play the same commercial back to back.

I hate it when I call a place to ask a question and they patronize me. Apparently only stupid people need to ask questions.

I hate it when I'm trying to sleep (e.g. after the dog has awakened me or at naptime), but I can't go to sleep because my BRAIN won't stop TALKING to me. It's like that really annoying kid in school who didn't have any friends and would talk to you and you would have to be nice to them because you felt sorry for them.

"Oh Poppycock! FEMALE bandits?!"

Ok, to be fair, I don't know if you were female. In fact I don't know much of anything about you. I don't know if you were a "they" or just a "you". I just thought the line sounded good.

I DO know that you are slimy, cowardly little yellow-bellied chickens; morons too afraid of living responsibily and following the laws put down by our nation. You obviously are afraid of failure, so rather than trying to accomplish something productive, you make your way through life, taking what others have worked hard to gain, and destroying what you cannot take.

I certainly hope that the momentary high you receieved off of taking my things was worth it. I hope that the little bit of money you got for my stuff was enough so that you could go out and buy drugs and get your momentary fix. Too bad you will never know true happiness, nor the pride in accomplishing something good and decent.

But, I'm still curious about a few things:

1. Why did you move my brother's Army helmet from the back office to the living room. Were you playing kickball?

2. Why did you sort through my movies and take such things as Beauty and the Beast, Bill Cosby and TWO empty cases, but leave behind such things as The Man from Snowy River and Ocean's Eleven? Wouldn't you have made more money and taken less time if you had just taken everything?

3. Why didn't you take the almost $500 worth of box sets in the forms of Alias, The Pretender, etc?

4. Why did you smash the TV? Was it too heavy for your puny arms?

5. Why did you move the cheese knife from the kitchen into the chair in the living room?

6. Why didn't you take the following items: the DVD player, the modem and the wireless router?

Wow. In looking back on it, it seems you weren't even very good theives.

Yes, you took my stuff. Yes, you got away with it. Congratulations to you. Enjoy your 15 minutes. I, on the other hand, will continue to live my life responsibily. I will continue to work and play to the utmost and I will buy more movies, another computer, and my brother will probably buy another PS2. You will not destroy our lives.