My one thousand-one-hundreth-and-sixty-fifth attempt at changing my layout finally worked! (Obviously) You dig the new look? I hope it doesn't make me look fat.

I feel much better now. The other layout wasn't a very good fit. Just goes to show you that a fundamental principle to living life well is to make sure the image you portray to the world really reflects who you are.

Otherwise, if there are any gaps between the real you and the worldly you ... it seems that, in the space between, something wicked always seems to brew.

Perpetuating an illusion is an extremely hard endeavor. People are rarely happy ... or successful ... for very long.

Hence TV evangelists. And beauty pageants.

What a perfect segway. (Nah, of course that wasn't completely planned :) So my friend's girlfriend - which I guess makes her my friend by assocation - competed in Miss America last night. So, we watched to show our support. She's an extremely nice girl and invited us to Altantic city to watch her compete. We respectfully declined. I didn't want to go not because I have some moral, ethical, social or gender equality issues with the pageant. The beauty contestants enter of their own free will and we should respect their decision to compete. I didn't see anyone with a cattleprod forcing these girls onstage. However, I do have issues with the requirement that all the girl's must have a chaperon at all times during pageant week. Apparently, Miss America modeled their pageant rules after Holly Oake Middle School's 4th grade Spring Formal. Lord knows, you don't want 18-24 year old women left to their own accord. They'd probally start birthin' babies everywhere.

Anyway, suffice to say, we decided to make a chocolate fondue and watch the festivities from the comfort of our living room.

Unfortunately, she wasn't in the top fifteen so we really didnt' see much of her. The only time she was on screen was when the token beautiful woman/entertainment reporter/sports newscaster interviewed a couple of the girls who didn't make it. She says to my friend's girlfriend (I'm paraphrasing): "So, really tell me, how does it feel to be so close, to come so far, to almost get the glory ... and then to lose? Now, be honest."

If it was me, this would have been about the time they would have had to call a doctor to surgically extract the microphone I had shoved up her ass.

But, it wasn't me. And my friend's girlfried answered: "No, really it's fine. God just has a different plan for me."

Which I found really weird because she doesn't even believe in God. She's Hindu. But that aside, I remember thinking how hard it must have been to sit there and act like everything was fine. When she was actually dying inside.

She came back home today and one of the things that hurt the most about the pageant was that she thought she could win by being herself. But it became clear to her very quickly that it's showbusiness. They're not interested in the "real" you. They want only the illusion of who they think you should be.

She realized this after she had won the state pageant. As soon as she got her title, she was assigned a booking agent, public relations coordinator, pageant coach, media represenative and personal trainer.

They didn't want anybody to see her until they had made her into what they thought she should be. Any contact had to be through a middleman. It was like she was the Catholic's idea of God: you couldn't speak with her directly. Only through third party arrangments.

Even her boyfriend had to make an appointment to see her.

In the end, all the transformations, adjustments, and redefinitions of her "image" really accomplished nothing. Maybe she was what the public wanted but she wasn't what she wanted. And, when it comes to yourself, you are the most important market.

Besides, you can never improve on an orginal.

Illusions. They'll get ya everytime.

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