Letter to Illness

Dear Sickness,

I've noticed that you liked to come at the most inconvenient times, in the most annoying of forms, like a stomach virus that causes high fever and vomiting.

For instance, you so cruelly came into my life at nighttime, between the hours of 1 am and 7 am when all I'd really like to be doing is sleeping.

You decided to pay a visit the week I need to write a big ten-page research paper.

And the weekend that my best friend, Travis, is supposed to come visit me in CS and go to Phi Lamb date party with me Saturday night.

Now, sickness, I understand you're a necessary part of life. I get that you come and go at least once a year, but really? This week? You couldn't have waited like a week, until after I'd written my paper and Travis had left? Really?

*sigh*

Love,
Valorie

P.S. TWLOHA! You better have written love on your arms!

Almost Officially Unemployed

As you guys may or may not know (regular readers, hmmm?) I'm a Mary Kay consultant. Or, I am for now because I'm quitting tomorrow after I finish my economics test.

See, I kind of feel like I'm doing a bad thing there. I've always been this huge proponent of the idea that women shouldn't feel like they need make up to feel beautiful... hell, that we shouldn't feel a need to be beautiful. A desire for beauty shouldn't be such a driving force in our lives. We shouldn't value ourselves based on how beautiful society thinks we are or aren't.

We're so much more important than that.

We should place our value in our intellect, in our caring nature, in our skills as leaders or listeners, in our wisdom or our compassion or our zest for life. In the fact that we get to be mothers, daughters, sisters, and wives. In who we are not what we look like.

And yet, here I am, selling make up to women, telling them they need it to cover up that blemish that doesn't exist or that they're not pretty if they have wrinkles or that such-and-such product will help them lose an inch off of their thighs or reduce those fine lines on their hands and elbows and by their eyes. That they need to use our products as a way to stay young forever because youth and beauty equal happiness.

The MK company motto is even, "Enriching Women's Lives." How pretentious is that? As if you won't have a rich, happy, wonderful, beautiful life without their products to keep you young and thin and pretty.

Eff. That.

I refuse to be a part of it anymore. I refuse to be a part of something that would try to tell this woman that she isn't beautiful because she has wrinkles and doesn't wear any make up. I refuse to be a part of something that claims that it's improving the lives of women when all it's really doing is saying, "oh hey, you're not pretty enough, let's fix that." When it's making them doubt the beauty and personality God gave them.

You're beautiful. Really. I promise.

Writer's Workshop: Letters

Hey you,

You're killing me. The mixed signals? Yeah, they're not cool.

You have a great smile. And you're incredibly intelligent and down to Earth, which makes conversation wonderful.

But I hate you. I mean, I don't really. I wish I did, because that would make things so much easier. That's almost the same right? Hating someone and just wishing you did so you didn't have to like them? It is in my book. At least, for now.

Stop being so great, okay? Thanks.

Love,
Simply Valorie

(This post was brought to you by Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop.)

Misconstrued

Today, I told my room mate, "I don't know what I want."

She said, "Well, hell, I could have told you that."

We were talking about food, but she seemed to mean it on a deeper level somehow.

I really need to get my life straightened out.

Nostalgic

I miss the days when I could get lost in a book.

Now, I'm all grown up.

And there are always other things to worry about.