Everybody Poops

    My cousin and uncle are coming in tonight and I'm waiting for them to arrive by listening to tunes, (not going to tell you what is currently playing...) charging my phone, and blogging.  The perfect way to end a day, methinks.

    We were watching a movie about a group of poorly dressed revolutionaries this afternoon, my family and I were, and my hair was strikingly similar to one of the [more ditzy and annoying] actresses in the program, and, since the movie was a boring one that I had lost interest in watching, my mind wandered to the subject of celebrities in general.  And I came to a startling revelation:

If you want to imagine someone as human, no matter their position in life, try to think of what they look like as they get ready for bed.

    Before you get gross or nitpicky, let me more thoroughly explain.  It's just been a regular day for them, be it stressful or restful, emotionally taxing or what have you, whatever is average.  For whatever reason they're going to bed alone (whether that's normal for them or not...but for the sake of this exercise it helps if there is no reason for them to be impressing anyone, even a husband or a dog) and they don't sleep in the nude (because I'm not trying to lead anyone down a road better left untraveled).

    

    So they're brushing their teeth.  Do you see it?  They're making that weird face in the mirror that everyone makes to check for missed plaque or broccoli or something.  Maybe they floss.  Maybe they walk around the bathroom for a full 45 seconds with Listerine in their mouth, having an internal battle against the big part of them that wants to spit prematurely.  Then maybe they brush their hair, or if they're a girl, perhaps they braid it or stick it in a ponytail.  Maybe they put that awkward zit cream on.  

    Depending on the obscure, larger-than-life figure you picked for this demonstration, they may have a few extra routines to perform before hitting the hay (checking in with the hired help, turning on the white-noise machine, drawing the curtains around the four-poster) but forget those things.  I'm betting, one night in their life, they slept in a normal bed.  Maybe it was in a last-minute hotel stay, or maybe they stayed at a relative's house, or they were trying to relate better to the common people.  

    Suddenly, after all this, doesn't this person feel more like they could be your next-door neighbor and you wouldn't even notice the difference?  I'm sorry, but when I see Osama bin Laden grinning stupidly to himself in the mirror, even if it is just a reflection in a pool in a cave and he can't even spell Listerine...maybe it's fake and a total impossibility, but he still feels more down-to-earth.  I laugh out loud when I imagine Prince William pulling the covers over his head after a long day, his boxers not even attempting to cover up all his awkward polo tan lines.  He becomes a real person who is experiencing something right now, halfway across the world, but there's still something going on over there.

    My boyfriend's in Germany right now.  There's a seven-hour time difference, so it's...almost 5:00 am there right now, and he has a class at 8:30, which will probably be about the time my family gets in tonight, so I'll be going to sleep about the time he pulls out his notebook (or computer, I suppose) and starts his week.  This sort of activity I've found is necessary if I'm going to believe that all of my friends really do exist, even if they're in different states, time zones, countries, political parties.

    Just a tip.  In case you feel lost.  Or just solipsistic.

<3 spadeALLcross