Through The Fish Tank (Originally Authored January 2010)

 Last night... for a brief moment... I thought I wanted to be famous.

I had ordered a pizza (too lazy to fix up something healthy for myself after driving back up to Salina from Wichita) and when the delivery woman came to the door I truly did want to have celebrity on my side.

She shoved the box containing my $10 special at me through the partially open door, rattled off something about coupons taped to the boxtop, took my money and left... the only evidence she'd ever been there a packet of parmesean cheese that fell out of her apron pocket on her way down the stairwell.

I returned to my computer to indulge in my dinner over the latest episode of "Modern Family" on Hulu and at some point whilst watching Sofia Vergara spit out her lines I ever so briefly began to crave... celebrity.

I bet Sofia Vergara never encounters a delivery woman who refuses to make eye contact... now, delivery men, I'm sure have a harder time with it but that's a whole 'nother blog... authored by a whole 'nother person. lol.

The more pizza I consumed and the more I thought about it, I realized that celebrity probably wasn't the thing I was actually craving... Celebrities, for the most part, are a pretty self centered and annoying breed...

Ok, not all of 'em.

For every insufferable Angelina Jolie there's a Rachel Ray you imagine you'd like to sit down at the kitchen table and spend the afternoon chatting with...

So maybe in my mozzerella induced reflective state what I was really craving was not "celebrity" but more of a muted familiarity.

To be known and well liked enough to perhaps show up as a clue on Jeopardy! every 3.5 years... or garner the occasional interview courtesy of Regis & Kelly.

I considered this further whlie examining the fridge to see if there was any carbonated beverages to supplement my greasy pizza dinner...

As I abandoned my search for a forgotten can of Dr. Pepper and popped open a Royal Chocolate SlimFast I decided that moderate celebrity wasn't any better than extreme celebrity and that having either wouldn't have illicited a response from the pizza woman that I'd have been satisfied with.

I went back to Sofia Vergara and tried to examine her again. What did she have that made me want to look her in the eye and make an instantaneous decision that I'd like her if I got to know her?

My Lotus rang interrupting my thoughts.

My new ring tone is "I'm Kissing You" by Des'ree from Baz Luhrman's retelling of Romeo & Juliet. :) (Pretty gay, I know).

I don't know who was on the phone but I was glad they called because something about hearing that tone at the particular moment jarred me.

Without even bothering to answer the silly thing, I found myself listening to the song serving as my ringtone and honing in on Sofia's eyebrows.

That's it! I thought. THAT'S what I'm missing...

I quickly youtubed the scene from Romeo & Juliet where the two star crossed lovers meet for the first time - you know the one: Leo's just finished up in the loo and is looking at fish in the aquarium and peers through the artificial coral to the other side of the tank to see his Juliet.

And she can't stop staring at him! And do you know why?

Caterpillar eyelashes!

Just like Sofia Vergara's!

People with caterpillar eyelashes make a lasting impression... you meet one and you'll spend your whole evening staring at them through a fish tank for sure!

Something about thick, full lashes draws people to you... makes 'em wanna stick around.

If I had had caterpillar eyelashes, that delivery lady would've let me into her life! Eye contact would've been initiated and maintained and she'd have been so distracted by Des'ree singing in her head that she wouldn't have even noticed I gave her a crummy tip.

I let "Kissing You" keep playing on a loop as I hurdled the pizza box on the living room floor and ran to the mirror to examine my eyelashes.

I whisked my fingertips over my eye lids trying to uncover some 'caterpillar-bility' in them.

It wasn't long before I began to feel more than just a little foolish. I walked over to the computer and minimized the youtube vid I'd pulled up.

I picked up my cell phone to see who the missed call I'd ignored was from... Mom. Who else? lol.

I called back and she answered... said she'd just been wondering if I made it back to Salina alright.

I told her I was finishing up dinner and that after that I intended to go to bed.

"Well, I'll let you go then, honey." she said.

"Ok," I replied, and then squeezing in, "Oh! And if I don't talk to you - Happy Anniversary tomorrow!"

"Thank you!" Mom said, sounding impressed that I had remembered.

"How many years has it been?" I asked, unsure.

"Thirty five." Mom replied.

"Wow. Thirty five years." I said.

"We're trying to decide where to go to celebrate." Mom added.

I heard my Dad pipe up in the background, "How about that barbecue restaurant we've been wanting to try?"

Mom yells back, "I thought you already tried that one!"

"Which one?" Dad yells in response.

I'm rolling my eyes by now, of course.

"The one that you were just talking about, Hugh!"

Dad: No I didn't try that one. I tried the other one down the street.
Mom: Well! Was it good or wasn't it?
Dad: The one down the street?
Mom: Why would I be asking you if the one you HAVEN'T tried was any good or not?

And now comes the point where I interrupt. "So," I say, interjecting, "to recap I'm home, I'm safe, and I'm going to bed now. Goodnight!" ...and I hang up the phone before the dispute over which barbecue restaurant has been sampled and if it is any good is resolved.

Thirty five years! Holy cow! I think. I honestly don't know how they've done it. Especially when you consider my parent's marriage has basically been three and a half decades of the discourse sampled above! Like a thirty five year Abbot and Costello routine...

I chuckle and return to the mirror. I sigh, still dissatisfied with the volume of my eyelashes... these are not eyelashes I can imagine asking a deliverywoman to invest five minutes in yet alone a potential boyfriend to invest thrity five years in!

And then I realize something.

I go back and watch the youtube footage again.

Leo's on one side of the aquarium.

Claire's on the other.

And yes, Leo's lashes are astounding, but think it through.

To Claire, Leo's image is distorted. ...and his eyelashes, well, they aren't even *discernible*!

He doesn't look like the young hot DiCaprio the rest of us are seeing... through the fish tank Leo has a round, gumball shaped head... his image is like one in a funhouse mirror... his face fat and his eyes crinkly...

But she stays and looks at him and is entranced regardless... even though to her the guy on the other side of the tank looks more like he will thirty five years from now than what he does presently...

I start the music back up and slowly pace back over to the mirror.

I look at my reflection for what it is... and for what it's not... slightly wrinkled forehead... eyelashes baring no resemblance to caterpillars... imperfect complexion...

And I think "Would I look at me through the fish tank? Even though I don't think the image I see here reflects who I really am.... would I look past it and consider loving someone like me for thirty five years or more?"

And as Des'ree winds down her anthem, I decide that though it may sound vain I have to answer 'yes'.

Because no one will love someone long term who can't love themselves in the here and now... caterpillar lashes or no.