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Wednesday, April 27, 2005  
HMO? More like HM-NO!
It has been my recent observation that as people get older, our views on our personal health change. Now I am not taking into account those with hypochondriasis, somatization disorder or Munchhausen syndrome (thanks Psych127) but I'm talking about your normal every day 20 something to 40 something.

When I was younger, and I'm sure many of you did this too, I faked ailments left and right. Sometimes I was serious about them. (As serious as a 7 or 8 year old can be) But other times I just didnt want to go to school god dammit! I would try to convince my parents that I had a fever by putting the thermometer under hot water or running around the living room with the thermometer in my mouth. Now neither of these are by any means safe but I was desperate. I despised the 5th and 6th grade and was determined to avoid attending school as much as possible. These ploys usually didn't work but I have to admit, they did a couple of times.

Other times I just wanted either attention or sympathy of some sort. I would complain to my mom that my hair was falling out (like that made any sense) or that I was throwing up my brain (I think that was when I spit out a small, rod-like potato I had just eaten). I suppose that this is normal for many children to do. They want attention from loved ones and want to stay within the comforts of their own home. Why should they go to some horrific place like school when they could watch cartoons all day long?

As we get older, this is a different story. Instead of feigning illness, we try everything we can to stay as healthy as possible...I know I try to. If I feel the slightest inkling of a cold, I panic. I overdose on Nyquil, Tylenol and the like in hopes of stopping the cold in its tracks. I've been successful when I do this but sometimes the flu just gets the best of me. And boy do I get mad. I mean sure you don't have to go to class...but I need to go to class! There are only so many lectures in a quarter that you can't afford to miss any. Imagine me degenerating from not wanting to go to a 5th grade class where we would paint things and write stories (I don't remember what we did in 5th grade) to WANTING to go to Organic Chemistry lecture. I proclaim that I must go no matter how I feel. I know what you're thinking, "You bastard. Don't come to school when you're sick! You'll make everyone else sick!" And I think the same thing about people when I hear them hacking up a lung behind me. Luckily, thusfar, I have not had to go to class while I have a cold or flu.

This obsession with health extends into things you can't help or things that are hard to help. The smallest pimple or blemish drives a person mad. I mean, it's understandable because you want to look your best for the opposite sex but if they turn you down for a white head on your chin, it's not meant to be is it? Welllll....it doesn't really matter does it. Perfection must be had every waking minute does it not? One hair out of place, one blackhead too many, one hair that evaded a shaving, it all adds up. And so we check ourselves, we prod ourselves and we check again. Now I admit, I may check occasionally but the females overdo it a little...ok a lot. I mean Botox? Really? Hmmm wrinkles symbolizing experience and wisdom....or complete elimination of emotion. Plucking your eyebrows? A skinbrow isn't usually better than a big eyebrow. As long as you've got two, I'm good. Breast implants? ...Ok can't argue with that one.

When it comes down to it, perhaps it's because I've lived in Beverly Hills for 11 years, perhaps it's genetic predisposition, I don't know. But I, for one, want to be as healthy, as fit and as perfect as I can be. (Well it's not hard for me, if I do say so myself....I kid of course) Narcississm exists in all of us. Whether it be functional operation leading to a cosmetic one in my case (nose surgery to stop my allergies and a little shaveroo on the top of the nose). Or purely cosmetic (the Botox and the tattooed makeup). We are vicitims of our own minds leading us to believe that we must be as perfect as possible. Now don't come looking for some cliche moral saying, "It's what's on the inside that matters," because we know it, but honestly we don't care. Why should we be slobs when we can be as narcississtic as possible? There is such a thing as excessive worrying about our bodies (it's called Body Dysmorphic Disorder, kids) but a little popped pimple here, a little hair patted down there and we can be on our way to being a contributing part in Darwin's vision. To advance the human race, we must look our best... so that we may fuck as much as possible. Only then shall we evolve into the gods of tomorrow.

Or become emotionless, fatless, manequins of today.
3:21 PM
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