I'm about to go to bed but...
...there's been something eating away at my mind all evening. It started when I watched tonight's episode of That 70's Show. I saw something on it that frightened me. I was particularly traumatized by what I saw because a long time ago, the frightening thing was lovely and I liked it very much. But tonight, a mere caricature of her former self, the beloved Mary Tyler Moore and her plastic surgeries-o-plenty convinced me to do my damndest to grow old gracefully.
I should have seen this coming when she married a plastic surgeon. I have to admit, it seems like a good idea at first glance, but after giving it some thought, I would think that her husband would start giving her plastic surgeries on gift giving occasions like Rick gave me lighthouse welcome mats. I think I prefer the mats.
I couldn't help but wonder if Ms. Moore doesn't stop and imagine what she would look like if she had never had her face demolished. In the few attempts she made to smile on the program, a hideous, PCP'd out Mona Lisa smile appeared briefly...but not briefly enough.
I am an avid fan of the old Dick Van Dyke Show and I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to watch sweet, adorable Laura Petrie in quite the same way. It'll be tough not to conjour up flahsbacks of the way that she freaked me out tonight. It makes the time she died half of her head blonde seem quite attractive by comparison.
I've been trying to come up with any benefit to having your face sliced off in ribbons every year or so. I could come up with only one, morbid advantage...like Keith Richards, she knows exactly what she'll look like in her casket. That would make the truseau a bit easier to shop for. Other than that, I see absolutely no benefit to trying to make your face look young by wrapping the remaining skin around the bones of ones face.
So, with that off my mind, I'm going to attempt, once again, to go to bed. The xanax that I had to take is kicking in and with any luck, I won't have nightmares of a crazed Mary Richards who has mistaken me for Phyllis.
Good night...I hope.
Meg
...there's been something eating away at my mind all evening. It started when I watched tonight's episode of That 70's Show. I saw something on it that frightened me. I was particularly traumatized by what I saw because a long time ago, the frightening thing was lovely and I liked it very much. But tonight, a mere caricature of her former self, the beloved Mary Tyler Moore and her plastic surgeries-o-plenty convinced me to do my damndest to grow old gracefully.
I should have seen this coming when she married a plastic surgeon. I have to admit, it seems like a good idea at first glance, but after giving it some thought, I would think that her husband would start giving her plastic surgeries on gift giving occasions like Rick gave me lighthouse welcome mats. I think I prefer the mats.
I couldn't help but wonder if Ms. Moore doesn't stop and imagine what she would look like if she had never had her face demolished. In the few attempts she made to smile on the program, a hideous, PCP'd out Mona Lisa smile appeared briefly...but not briefly enough.
I am an avid fan of the old Dick Van Dyke Show and I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to watch sweet, adorable Laura Petrie in quite the same way. It'll be tough not to conjour up flahsbacks of the way that she freaked me out tonight. It makes the time she died half of her head blonde seem quite attractive by comparison.
I've been trying to come up with any benefit to having your face sliced off in ribbons every year or so. I could come up with only one, morbid advantage...like Keith Richards, she knows exactly what she'll look like in her casket. That would make the truseau a bit easier to shop for. Other than that, I see absolutely no benefit to trying to make your face look young by wrapping the remaining skin around the bones of ones face.
So, with that off my mind, I'm going to attempt, once again, to go to bed. The xanax that I had to take is kicking in and with any luck, I won't have nightmares of a crazed Mary Richards who has mistaken me for Phyllis.
Good night...I hope.
Meg
posted by Meg Kelso | 8:46 PM
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