Late Night Treasures

It's been a stressful couple of weeks for me, so I've found myself awake later than I usually am. Sleepless because of stress--the thought of this upcoming exam, the nightmare of getting questions of weird, unknown diseases or worse yet, completely blanking out, has kept my mind racing at unbelievable speeds. In order to bore myself to sleep, I would turn on the television for mindless entertainment.

One particular night this week, I found myself awake in the early a.m., so I turned to the Oxygen network--not really stimulating at all. In fact I usually find the shows suffocating mad, depriving one's brain of the much needed earth element. In medical school, I would have turned to Harrison's (one of our dear sacred books) or Robbin's to put me to sleep. However, during this crunch time, if I open either of those, I find myself in panic, wondering why I didn't know certain details or why the certain pathological hallmarks have eluded my memory.

Anyway, on Oxygen was a repeat of Tyra Banks. Her topic for the night? Booty. Her show was dedicated to the shape, size and form of achieving the perfect booty. Since I've got a huge crush on Tyra, my remote was tossed down and I watched her display the many different types of booty out there, and how to use clothes and other devices to achieve bootylicious.

She had a plastic surgeon on there who could perform booty-lifts, masseuers who specialized in just stimulating the booty area, and even this fashion thing (much like a bra) that would lift and perk the booty. I don't know about the massage. I wouldn't want to have that profession, to just massage butts all day, but if people will pay for it, someone is going to make a living.

Now, what really caught my attention was Tyra confessing to another imperfection of hers. Her first confession concerned her mammary glands (okay, so the booty wasn't the first time I stopped to watch her show). She proved that she didn't have a breast implant---in fact she showed the world that without her wonderbra, she had ordinary flapping ones. This new "imperfection" was cellulite. This made her more human and less "super" in my eyes (it's a good thing). And it showed most people that you don't have to be plastic perfect to become a super model. My hats off to her for doing something like that. Now, to me, she's perfect.

By the time the show was over--and audience members had gotten free booty massage certificates, booty lifting devices and even a "call-in" from home booty work-out routine, sleep was calling, only I had now started to fight it, hoping to catch a glimpse of a perfect booty.