The Myth of My Beautiful Mind

You have to love MIB. Well, maybe YOU don’t have to, but I do.

For some odd reason, he thinks I am beautiful. He has likened me to mountains, which impresses the hell out of me. How does he know what I look like? Well, we’ve exchanged photographs. Besides that, on that other web site, I had posted photographs of myself. I don’t know why. In my youth, I thought I was a pretty odd looking person. Embarrassingly so. I was small, thin, angular, not very feminine. I had ridiculously skinny legs, and still do. I didn’t wear dresses where my legs were exposed until my thirties. Same goes for shorts. I was a huge consumer of makeup, too. Now of course, I’m heading into old age and eventual cronedom, so I really don’t give a damn what I look like anymore. Even at my age, I will sometimes don a miniskirt. Who has time for makeup? If my face is clean when I leave the house, that’s a huge plus. I also don’t give a damn about anyone else’s opinions of my physical being, which is amazingly freeing. Since I don’t have the heavy burden of worrying about what other people think, I’m able to accomplish much more in my already busy day.

Recently, MIB made a comment to me that I found was somewhat peculiar. (I say “somewhat” because “rather” doesn’t fit the bill. It was only mildly odd.) If I can translate, he made a comment that if I were a psychobitch or something thereabouts, that would be too bad because such a disgusting personality would be hidden in a “gorgeous body” (his direct quote, not mine). Oh, and if that were the case, “all that glitters is not gold” – this is humorously told, and it made me smile.

However, though the comment was made in jest, I fear that MIB must have been happy to glean a modicum of truth about that from our association. Although it pains me to do so, I must now dispel the Myth of My Beautiful Mind, if only to make my real self more apparent to MIB. I don’t want him to open the Oreo of my mind and instead of finding a creamy white middle, he finds a paste consisting of flour and poo. After all, I can’t have him go through his daily trials and tribulations thinking I’m some sort of perfect goddess, flawless in every way.

No, just like my body, which is now angular with a spare tire around the middle, small and not very feminine, my mind is not exactly a pristine and wonderful mechanism with which to put on a pedestal.

Back in the “olden days” i.e. my tempestuous youth, my mind was clouded by many ominous things. First of all, I partied, a lot. I think many people of the twenty-something persuasion do. In retrospect, I was fairly responsible about it. I stuck to beer and only dabbled infrequently in minor psychedelic substances. I was deathly afraid of cocaine and heroine, and just as nervous about hard liquor.

Around this time, I became horribly depressed. Partly because of the substance abuse issues, and partly because I contracted a physical illness that caused me to think I was going to die. My mind became a veritable cesspool of dark and brooding thoughts. With therapy and a lot of good antidepressants, I clawed my way back to the light.

I also had a tendency to be down-right evil. That’s right, when properly nudged, I could invent revenges that would pale most manly men. In fact, most of my revenges had to do with the men in my life, and the women they threw me over for. I could go into detail, but I’m sure many of the things I did would be considered punishable offenses in a court of law. Besides, I’m now reformed.

So, there you have it. My confession that all that glitters is really not gold after all.

I hope you still love me, My Internet Boyfriend.


13 Responses

  1. Isn’t it nice that others can’t really see everything that goes on (or has gone on) in these brains of ours!

  2. Thankfully, so, Sue… 😉

  3. My mother is 84 and still dons the make up every day. I fear I’ll be like her. The blubber is having it’s way with me, for certain, but I still have to do the make up and hair routine every day. I had to go to the dentist this morning and couldn’t wait to get home and put on my lipstick. I felt so naked.

    I have a dark side, too. I can be quite sanctimonious and smug when it comes to revenge. I’ll also admit to losing more than a few brain cells from my younger days. OK, and maybe a few due to last week.

  4. It’s too late Pan. While you wrote this in an attempt to dispel the myth of your beautiful mind I think that what you really did was prove that it is not a myth at all but reality. If your mind was not so beautiful you would have went forth blaming circumstances and other people and most likely dysfunction for anything and everything that has happened to you. Not only that you but you show that you have an acceptance of yourself that (as you know) I strive to attain.

    If he doesn’t still love you (which we all know that he will and that his love for you will grow after reading this) I do.

    Now that I’ve kissed your beautiful ass can I get myself one of those bottles of wine????

  5. Leaving the cellar today, bibio… 🙂 That tribute deserves a bit of the bubbly!

    Thanks, but I still don’t believe in anyone’s beautiful mind, much less my own. I’m about as flawed as they come. Ask my family.

  6. I want to hear more about the minor psychedelic substances.

  7. Like an Indian rug, the beauty flows through the flaw. 😉

  8. Oh you can tell us about the revenges. There is a statute of limitations, you know! I’m sure it has run, unless you killed someone which I highly doubt!

  9. I don’t know. Is there a statute of limitations on identity theft?? Just kidding. Partially. It’s a long story.

  10. Hey! I wasn’t under the illusion that you are “perfect”. I am still convinced that you’re wonderful and that our minds match one another very well. The thing I think about perfection is this: boring.

    I have two more things to say for now.

    1) Flour and poo! OMG! That made me grin!

    2) When I wrote “all that glitters is not gold”, I was thinking about Tolkein’s poem in which he says “all that is gold does not glitter”. Figuring out the meanings of appearances requires subtle investigations.

    Hmm. I have some stuff I have to do now.

  11. I thought you’d like the “flour and poo” I was trying to think of the most disgusting thing I could!

  12. What you described is what makes a mind beautiful.
    Perfection is the province of the Stepford wife…
    You can’t have an Oreo without some crumbs….Everyone who is real casts some kind of shadow…..

  13. A beautiful mind is one that survives life. Yours is doing pretty well, I’d say.

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