you probably think this song is about you.
That is the theme of today's post, because somehow in my mind, I still think this song of life is about me.
I still seem to be suffering from ego-centrism, like I often teach about with middle school kids. Life is about me. The world centers around me - and when I walk into a room, everyone is looking at me, thinking about me, watching me, wondering about me, fill-in-the-blank _______ about ME. Hence, ego-centrism at its finest.
While on a lent kick a few years ago, I gave up make-up for forty days. That in and of itself was a feat for me because I'd been so used to adorning myself with Mac and Stila and Maybelline alike, but had become dependent upon it for beauty. I remember feeling distraught, knowing in advance that I'd be giving up make-up over my birthday. Oh, the one day of the year that I WANT to wear make-up! But that birthday came and went - as did the other 39 days, and the thing is, I realized and learned that all - ALL - of it was in my head. The truth was, no one really noticed that I wasn't wearing make-up unless I pointed it out. And the response then generally was something like this: "Oh really? Huh." NO. BIG. DEAL.
I'm so vain I probably think this song is about me...
Fast forward: somewhere over the course of, I don't know, October, November, December, my contacts really started to bug me. I was putting eyedrops in them all the time, and switching mascaras here and there [because I did start wearing it again, as I realized that my beauty wasn't dependent on this outward adornment...], and wearing my glasses more often.
Memories of wearing glasses half the size of my face in the 4th, 5th and 6th grades started coming back to me, and along with it came the silly name "four eyes," and the belief that my beauty was diminished by wearing glasses. Because there's that 7th grade ego-centric self that believed that she became that much MORE beautiful when she got contacts. She became bold when she didn't have to hide behind those thick lenses.
I'm so vain I probably think this song is about me. Don't I? Don't I?
So a couple of eye doctor appointments later, and we've found that there's a scratch on the cornea.
Not a big deal - in fact, it's pretty common. But it also means not wearing my glasses for a couple of weeks.
Am I silly? Am I vain? Am I normal? Do we all think this "song" is about us every once in awhile?
Signing off, Carly Simon