Remembrances

You’re so vain

I don’t consider myself vain. I mean, I can hardly be bothered to put makeup on before I leave the house. I have no eye for fashion and would never consider Botox or any of that stuff as I age. Don’t get me wrong - if I’m having a good hair day or manage to do my eye makeup really well one afternoon, I feel good. And I wax my eyebrows because, well, I’ve talked about the brows before. I just don’t think I’m all that absorbed in the way I look (maybe I’m in denial).

I do remember one time I felt especially ugly. It was fifth grade and I had the chicken pox. My little brother had just gotten through a bout with them, and I got out of the shower one Sunday evening and found a spot on my chest. My mom banished my grandparents out of the house because Pop-Pop, at sixty, had never had the pox and it’s worse when you’re older.

So, I was home from school for about a week. I missed the California Achievement Tests (no big loss) but someone sent my homework home for me. Ugly red bumps sprouted up everywhere. Most noticeably on my face. I can still remember looking at myself in the mirror and crying because I thought I looked like a swollen horror show. And then the bumps scabbed over. And I wanted them to go away because scabs? On your face? When you’re ten? Yeah, not the look you’re going for with your neon pink and black outfit.

I don’t remember much of the itching or general feeling of lousiness, although I’m sure they both contributed to my tear fest at the sight of my face. I just remember the fear of never looking “normal” again. And that, my friends, was pure vanity.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go pluck the stray hair from my chin and Nair my ’stache. I may not be vain, but I use my better judgment for the sake of those who have to look at me daily… Sometimes.

Tags: chicken pox, childhood, vanity

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