"In vacant or in pensive mood..." I am: Bekah; 24; Law Student / Favorite Things: Carbs (so there!), Johnny Damon, Smiling at babies, Grilled cheese, Comfortable silence / Favorite Supreme Court Justice: Brennan / Favorite Wilson: Owen by an inch / Today's Special: Song: Elliott Smith, "Bled White"; Quote: "You know, there's like a butt-load of gangs at this school. This one gang kept wanting me to join because I'm pretty good with a bowstaff." Please love me: mmbekah@yahoo.com


February 2003 March 2003 April 2003 May 2003 June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 November 2003 December 2003 January 2004 February 2004 March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 September 2005

 
Toothbrushes, Airbrushes, and Brushes With Greatness

There's been a growing public obsession with white teeth over the last year or so. Strips, paints, toothpastes, mouthwashes, treatments, etc. Now, I do think yellow teeth are gross, and I'm thankful for all of the dentists who have prevented me from looking like I've been living on cigars and Espresso my whole life. But I'm also not so sure that teeth are really supposed to be laser-jet-printer-paper-white. I don't think that's the color of enamel, I don't think that color occurs in nature, and I don't think a perfectly pearly white smile is an attainable goal. Which has gotten me thinking about the misconceptions we have about ourselves and others. Our air-brush culture. Like Debra Messing on the cover of whatever magazine it was, when she suddenly, thanks to remarkable (and I mean really incredible) feats of airbrush technique, grew breasts. Or a stretched-out photo of Kate Winslet in lingerie, prompting her to step up and say, "this is not what I look like." I realize that this is old news; the fact that we live in an image-controlled, touched-up society is a truism at this point. (It's a truism, at least, for most of us, but not for the 11 year old girls who starve themselves because they think Lara Flynn Boyle is the epitome of beauty. Great Simpsons exchange, by the way: "Aaah!" "What is it?" "Oh nothing, I just sat on Lara Flynn Boyle.").

All of this is really just a socially-conscious segue into something quite trivial: a short account of one of my favorite (and one of my only) brushes with fame. I begin this way merely to illustrate that the few times I have run into famous people, they have been nothing like their public selves--or at least nothing like I expected them to be. Scratch the surface, and everyone's...a little discolored.

I met Trent Reznor (NIN lead singer) last semester at a bar. I was standing with a friend about two feet away from him. We both spotted him at the same time, and looked at each other with excitement and disbelief (my friend and I looked at each other; Trent Reznor was talking to someone else at the time). I was feeling brave, so I went over to talk to Trent (yeah, we're tight like that now) and his crew. I walked up to him and said, "You aren't doing a very good job of fitting in." He responded, "Really, what am I doing wrong?" "Nothing, you're being...you." We chatted a little bit about where he lives and what he's up to these days. And then several things started to dawn on me. 1) Trent Reznor is short, probably only slightly taller than I am; 2) Trent Reznor is quite shy and awkward in conversation, and is very kind and considerate to slightly annoying fans; and 3) I honestly cannot picture the Trent Reznor I met in the bar singing some of the lyrics that I know he sings. It was refreshing. Later in the evening I introduced my friend Matt to "Trent" as if we'd been friends forever. Pretty sweet. I realized that yes, Trent Reznor looks totally hard and kick ass on the cover of Rolling Stone, and he does sing lyrics that chill middle America to its very core, but he's really just a nice guy who goes out for a drinks with his friends over the weekend. The final lesson I learned that night was something we all already know, but sometimes tend to forget: No one is magazine-ready all the time and no one is as easy to peg as we might think, but we can all be rockstars.

Ok Trent, I wrote about you like you wanted. Call me, ok?




posted by Bekah at 10:52 PM :: |