Really?

"Do you know what you want? I do. What I really want is my foundation to match my skin."

Really?

Not world peace?

An end to poverty, homelessness and hunger?

A truly inspiring presidential candidate?

A health care system that works?

Education reform?

Freedom from tyranny, opression and penis enlargement spam?

Admittedly, I love a good foundation as much as the next make-up whore. I'm ghostly white, but strangely sallow skinned, and you wouldn't believe how difficult it can be to find a good match. I'm fully stocked should Kabuki ever emerge as a trend.

And listen, if I had a face like that, I might be tempted by the opportunity to pander to the insecurities of women everywhere and collect a squillion dollar paycheck in the process.

So...perhaps I'm being unfair. The life of a celebrity draws few parallels to my own. I can't pretend to know what it's like to be breathtakingly beautiful, or to live with the knowledge that my face is my fortune. I can't understand what it's like to fear the ravages of time more than the folly of man. So I honestly can't speak from experience.

And yet?

I think I migth have gone a different direction with that.

Because even as an average Jane, in an anonymous American suburb, I'm aware of the fact that everything I do, every belief I espouse, and every word I utter as a woman, speaks with an eloquence that is far reaching.


In the words of Cameron Thayer from the movie "Crash"


"You embarass me. You embarass yourself."

I know, I know...lighten up B.A., it's just a commercial, and she's just an actress. It's not like the Pope is suddenly endorsing S&M.

But it still bugs me.

Because in a very powerful way, the manner in which we, as a nation, a people, and a gender are represented in the media, becomes a snapshot for the world to hold up, examine, and judge.

Shit. If the rest of the world gets Vh1, we're sunk.