Me, Mysunburn & I

I've experienced some epiphanal moments this last week. It started with dining alone and finished with a sunburn. So, to inform folks back home on what a sunburn is, I thought I'd tell a little story about how I continue to develop as a magnificent person.

I went to a cafe for breakfast, alone, and sat there to read a book! Whaaaaat?! Obviously this is out of character for me. I don't like reading and I don't do things alone on account of my insecurities. I usually get uncomfortable when everyone around me is constantly watching every move I make. And, I'm acutely aware of everyone's stares, even when I turn my head to catch them and they pretend to not be intently studying me at that particular moment by acting like they're engaged in whatever conversation they've put on for show. They can't fool me, though. I know they're judging me. But, I'm exploring new territory south the equator, so I went to a bar to try it again, just to make sure. Had a beer, alone, and read my book! I felt invincible!

Two days later, I went to the most amazing place, Coogee beach! The sand paled in comparison to Oregon beaches. Paled in that it was much less impressive, not that it was whiter, cause it wasn't. Oregon is the best and whitest. In terms of its beaches, I mean. But the water at Coogee was the best water I've ever been in - anywhere! The temperature was perfect - warm enough that I could stay in and splash around for hours without getting cold, but cool enough that it was still refreshing to be in it, away from the hot, breezy air. It felt perfect! It also looked perfect.

The water was clear - like, super clear. I could see to the bottom everywhere I was, as if I was standing in air. I could see beautifully refracted light (from the sunny day) coming through each giant wave that pummeled me in the surf. The waves were big, bigger than Oregon's, and they were so much fun! It was like the perfect water you'd see on the travel channel, or a travel brochure, or written about in a book by a real writer - except this wasn't on a screen or in a book - it was on me! I was in it! I was splashing around and giggling so hard that I was getting weird looks from the other tourists who were there just to watch me. I know, they were playing around, too but that was just an act. I could tell by how much they sucked at catching waves. I bodysurfed the crap out of those waves and no one else could figure it out, even though they pretended to try. In fact, one little girl just stood there, "crying and screaming" for her parents, I mean, observing me. Amateurs. Anyway, I kept catching awesome waves, and splashing about, and giggling until I felt things start to hurt. I thought maybe it was a jellyfish sting on my scalp and shoulders but changed my mind after one of the other tourists said, "you're looking a little red there, chief." Well, I don't play in the waves with racists so I left.

When I had arrived to the beach, I took my shirt off, giving everyone a show. I rubbed on my 50 SPF sunscreen while smiling and staring back at everyone else. Not weird at all. But when I got home to wash the sea off my body and out of my still-crying eyes (it was really salty), I felt a terrible sting!

They say that direct sunshine-to-skin contact is a common way for a sunburn to occur. That logic seems sound, as I had been exposing my shoulders to the world for the entire day. And when I looked in the mirror, I was red like a tomato. Or a cooked lobster. Everyplace that wasn't covered seems to be in pain. It's a pain I would definitely associate with the word burning. When I touch myself, I feel hot, which is validating because I tell people I'm hot all the time. I've been applying aloe vera, which feels great - but then I'm sticky, which is not so great. I expect this will pass, but I'm bored while waiting. Bored and hidden because I don't feel like going back out into public. Really, I just don't want to put clothes on, but that means I probably shouldn't go outside. I'll not forget my newfound skills of dining and drinking alone, but I should wait till the pain stops before I continue with that adventure. And that's what a sunburn feels like. #ouch

End of the Month Update
I went back to Coogee beach for another sunburn today. 4th sunburn in 5 weeks. The water conditions weren't as magnificent as last time. Each wave was filled with seaweed. Well, there's never been a weed that's ever slowed me down (okay, one in particular slows me down a lot...) so I got right into that water, determined to have fun! And by "right into" I mean that I watched the lifeguards make three saves before I had the nerve to give it a try. Those waves were pounding people, and there were stinging jelly fish that were paralyzing people, and there was sooo much seaweed - but it was time for my date with fun.

I was complaining about the seaweed right out of the gate. It was like floaty sandpaper that wrapped itself around my legs and inhibited my fluidity in the water. I came in and out of the water several times throughout the day, trying to dodge the seaweed - and failing.

After I was significantly sunburned, I called it a day and headed out. Stopped at the public bathroom to take a leak. Posted up between two lads at opposite ends of the big, stainless steel, trough-style urinal and pulled out my package. Well, the whole damn thing was covered in bits of seaweed and sand! So, I start shaking it around to try to get everything off. To and fro and all about, but it was really stuck on there. Had to start rubbing it off with the other hand until I realized how I must have looked to the other guys. You know, really going at it - with two hands and all! Ugh. Oops. Did my thing while using my wishing skills to remove the bits and pieces instead of physics. But, my wishing skills suck ass. Shook a bit more, until my humility was at its max capacity, and before putting everything away, I noticed a big piece of something caught in the secret-underpants-lining of my swim-trunks. I pull the waist-band way out to get a better look. As I'm staring inquisitively at my crotchular area, I see a big ass piece of seaweed, hanging out in there like it owns the joint. So I reach in with the other hand and pull it out. Threw it into the urinal - right next to my modesty.

I kind of made myself sound too awesome at beginning of this post, so I decided to add this update to the story. You know, to balance things out a bit.

Walk Into The Pageant Like, What Up? I Gotta A Big Thought!

I went through a phase of being a pretty awesome straight edge punk rocker. Blue mohawk, pyramid studs on my leather belt, and a 'fuck you' attitude. I enjoyed my moral superiority of thought. I condemned things like alcohol, smoking, and fun. I condemned people for conforming, for operating within the system, for supporting "the man". I was a judgemental jerk and I hated "perfect people". I didn't really have major goals of my own, but I criticized people who made goals that I thought were dumb.

The epitome of the perfect people I hated were highlighted in beauty pageants. I was a hater way before it became trendy to spotlight beauty pageant fails.

We laugh at how stupid they must be, as if we would never make a mistake, or succumb to nerves during an elite competition, in the spotlight, in front of thousands of judging eyes. Their intelligence failures reinforce our ignorance that the contest is purely for gawking, when the hosting organizations clearly give a criteria for judging that is beyond just physical appearance. There's no doubt that these organizations are corrupt and terrible, but why criticize the competitors?

While most people may not understand the criteria for judging a beauty pageant, they most certainly are goals that these competitors set for themselves, work extremely hard towards with ferocious tenacity, and then present their accomplishments in front of thousands-strong audiences to be judged.

Judging is not criticizing; and reiterating our ignorance that these pageants are only about physical appearance is not accurate. If you want to criticize, be accurate. In fact, only two-thirds of the competition is based on physical appearance.

I know another competition that is 100% based on physical appearance, but it doesn't receive the same social outcry of condemnation. Fitness and bodybuilding competitions.

Be that as it may, I think what is forgotten in these competitions that incorporate physical beauty is the training involved to be a competitor. These are wonderful examples of people setting goals, working toward them with a capacity that most people can't understand. Most people have no idea what kind of training and dedication it takes to compete in one of these competitions. It takes more mental fortitude to achieve that physical appearance you see on stage than any critic displays in presenting their shallow opinions.

Yet, to someone who doesn't understand the criteria of the competition, or the dedication necessary to compete, a pageant still looks like an outdated contest about looks. How do most people miss the countless hours and sacrifices that were made in order to master one's own body? And why isn't the mastery of one's body not more impressive?

In my eyes, this is all about setting goals, working hard toward them, and conquering them. However, naysayers will maintain that beauty pageants objectify women and some might add that bodybuilding competitions objectify men. But, these participants aren't competing to objectify themselves. And if you objectify them: the problem is with you! Someone recently told me that when she was just 16, an older coworker (30s male) told her that she was the reason guys do bad things (rape). You can't blame a woman for being raped because of how she looks. Anyone can wear whatever the fuck they want - it's the person raping that is at fault for raping! If we're objectifying beauty pageant competitors, we're at fault - not the women competing! So why are we harshing on them? Aren't they simply examples of people setting extreme physical and mental goals for themselves - and then conquering them?! We should be praising their success! We should be inspired by them! We should respect them!

There are other examples of physical success that we do praise that came from the same extreme, laborious training and dedication. Gymnasts, for example, make the same sacrifices in order to master their own body. We all watch that and say, "Holy crap, that's awesome" without the objectification!

Or, going back to corrupt facilitating organizations, we can look at FIFA. Soccer players are equally, unimaginably amazing athletes but there's no condemnation of them for trying to achieve their goals (pun intended). In the case of FIFA, they're berated for what they are, as they should be, but the competitors escape this deluge of criticisms, as they should - and so too should beauty pageant competitors.

I've explored several phases since my straight-edge punk rocker days. With New Year's Resolutions upon us, I'm currently exploring a phase of appreciating peoples' goals, no matter what they might be. I am inspired by their dedication to whatever, and am not lost in superficial judgements. I am in awe at their accomplishments, and not belittling of their motivations. I am humbled by their sacrifices to achieve what is important to them, and not critical of what I think should be important to someone else.

I may not understand the world of physical appearance competitions, and I certainly never thought in a million years that I would be defending beauty pageants. I do understand goals and hard work, though. If a little girl (or anyone) sets her sights on a goal, and is willing to work toward it, who are any of us to denounce her passion? Get it, girl!