growing in the goo

I'm watching Miss America right now, after stumbling upon it while waiting for Scrubs to begin. Ordinarily this is when I'd watch House (and yes, I complained about this last week), but since FOX treats its loyal viewers like crapola...my one show I watch is thrown out the window.

Oh, and E just told me that Miss America is actually a repeat, and she knows who won. I do love suspense, so I hope no one tells me the winner within the next two hours. Otherwise there is just no point in listening to the all-important Q & A period.

Anyhow. Back in the day I used to get super excited about Miss America, for several years a friend and I would make sashes out of old nightgowns, and we were glued to the TV. I don't think I ever pretended to be Miss America - like those stupid stories they tell in their little camera moments - but I definitely had a good time.

So, they just had the intros for all the girls, and I realized that I'm older than, oh, almost all of them. Some of them are 24 or 25, but those are the old spinsters. You can almost see their crow's feet, good God!

Naturally, I'm seeing how I stack up against all these "lovely ladies." And honestly, I don't feel like we're even the same species. They're all made up, tan, perfectly coifed. They have movie-star hair. Impossibly small waists, long slender legs, and big boobs. And those teeth! They all have perfect teeth!

oooh, swimsuit competition, and they're playing an instrumental version of "Sway" by Bobby Rydell.

Camera then pans to me. Sitting at the dining room table, typing away with three fingers (because those touch typing classes never did stick). Wearing blue snowflake pajama pants, a green fleece top. Hair half up, red nail polish chipped. Pale. No impossibly small waist, no perfect legs, definitely no big boobs. Sitting with one foot beneath me, chomping on harvest cheddar sun chips. And my hair resembles the unkempt strands on the floozy's head starring in the Morphoplex commercial.

I'm like the typical mess/work in progress/fixer upper, they are like those girls you see on commercials...only they're real. Such a contrast.

But you know what? Even though I'm not a Miss America contestant, my life is pretty darn good, and more in line with what my 8 year old self wished for. I have a job in the writing/editing/magazine industry, in my favorite city. I work at a non profit, which was a dream that I didn't think that I'd be able to work out - at least not right away. Because, let's face it, I was at the mercy of those who were doing the hiring. One would like to think that they pick the company, but when you're without a job, it's the company that picks you. What were the odds that it would be perfect?

And hell, I clean up good.

And now an eHarmony commercial is on, and it reminds me of a conversation I had with my boss today. She told me that a family friend had died yesterday, the woman was in her late 80s, and she and her husband had been married for 63 years. My boss has been married 25 years this upcoming April, and I asked her if it made her excited to think that she was part of something that's heading toward 50+ years. And she got this big smile on her face and said that it makes her very excited to think of it.

And I told her that even though I'm single - with no prospects - it still makes me excited to think of being part of something that will last for 50+ years, God willing. The thought of it just makes my eyes shine.

okay. enough rambling. Although...as a sign in the office says:

"if you never go in tangents, you're doomed to traveling in circles."

(oh, and now that there's only 20 minutes left and they're down to five, my money is on Miss DC. Goooooo Caps!)