Ah, Facebook. You have provided me with some really nice online reunions with both college and high school friends. Some have, sincerely, been fun to catch up with, a couple really leave me wondering how I lost touch with this person or that. Others, meh, I could take or leave 'em. Every once in awhile, though, Facebook provides a "what the #$*@?" moment.
About a year ago, I "friended" a girl I knew in high school. She was a year behind me, not someone I would have hung out with one on one, but nice enough. She came from a fairly wealthy family and always had interests that were sort of above and beyond what the normal Southwest Iowa teen takes on, like equestrianism, for example. So when I became her Facebook "friend," I wasn't surprised to see recent photos of her competing in steeplechase and whatever other horse riding events exist.
Yesterday, however, she revealed her new hobby. Evidently she is not just into, um, working out, she is actually a competitive (prizewinning!) bodybuilder. She posted a photo of herself, holding a trophy. In a very small, hot pink bikini. With arms the size of my husband's and clearly enhanced "girls." And a skin color that makes the female cast of Jersey Shore look like geishas.
My first thought when I saw her photo was that she was standing in front of one of those plywood cutouts at a carnival where you stick your face in the designated hole. ("Ha ha, look at me, I'm a farmer! And my husband's a cow!") Then I realized the skin on her face perfectly matched the skin on the plywood cutout's body and that it was, indeed, her own body in that bikini.
I mean, good for you for being "fit," but holy crap, dial it down a notch.
Note: The photo above is not her.
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