New York, The Universe, "You Look Really Comfortable" and My Pants

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First: New York: A Documentary Film, by Ric Burns (brother of Ken Burns), an interesting, engaging and entertaining 8-part documentary series on the history of the city of New York. Originally aired on PBS but I'm watching it on Amazon Prime on my iPad. It's long, over 14 hours, but I've learned a lot, and learned a lot more respect for, how NYC became what it is and why it is so wonderful.

The documentary How the Universe Works from Discovery Channel: awesome. Makes me feel like life is a miracle and a blessing and I'm lucky to be a part of the human race. And then I go jeans shopping and I get all bummed out because of the size of jeans that fit me really well and look good. Really, Rebecca? This is what you feel bad about? Get a grip.

But...gosh, don't we want to feel attractive? And I flashback to this time I was with this guy and I had made the effort to look attractive and he said, "You look really comfortable" and part of me thinks, "Hey, that's nice, he means that as a compliment," but part of me was kinda crushed, because of all the things I wanted to know he thought I looked like at that moment, comfort never occurred to me. I can honestly say never in my life have I hoped someone thought I looked comfortable after making the effort to look good. He didn't mean anything bad by it. And logically, it shouldn't matter. But.

My jeans. Comfortable. Every magazine published ever. The five pounds I've gained every year for the last four years (not all at once) that sort of sneaks up on you and suddenly you go from marveling at the Universe to cursing yourself out in a dressing room. Ouch.

If I had the self-control to run a marathon, I have the self-control to not eat so damn much. I've been working on it. And it's working.

It matters to me more than it should, I know. Sorry, Universe. I wish the mirror I looked in everyday reflected you, not me. Maybe someday.

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