We all know them. Growing up they won the spelling bees and all of the track and field events. Including the long jump that you practiced for a whole year jumping the drainage ditch across from the Dairy Queen. The Perfects’ moms brought cupcakes to school on their birthday and invited the entire class to a skating party where they gave out gift bags filled with Jolly Ranchers and Silly Putty and fun size Three Musketeers. Perfects got two gold stars for their book reports. They always took home blue ribbons for their science projects and always got chosen to dust the erasers!
(If you don’t know what dusting the erasers is, ask your parents.)
Perfects received brand new cars when they turned sixteen and scholarships to the top party schools most prestigious institutions of higher learning. Yeah, hours in the library, the gym or waiting tables after school couldn’t get you what they had – the brains, the bod, the bucks. The Perfect life.
Now we’re adults. Perfects have successful careers, destination weddings, thousands of Facebook friends and drive big ass SUVs. They’re different people with different names, but in your mind they are still The Perfects. You’re not jealous. No, there’s not an ounce of envy for what they have or where they go. “Poor little rich girl,” you say as you pull the trash can out to the curb and watch Perfect’s daughter whiz by in Daddy Perfect’s Beamer. You feel sorry for them. Momma Perfect’s on another “medical spa” trip. You know this because you use the same pet groomer as the Perfects and the receptionist gave us the 411. Little Ruffles came in again smelling of Chanel and bourbon. Sad.
Perfects at work don’t even cause the green meanies. You’ve come to grips with the fact that they kiss ass way better than you ever could. So what, they have off site “one on ones” with the department head. You don’t care, the company pays for your data plan so you can be available to the boss 24/7 via text AND email. The mortgage and the therapist get paid on time. It’s all good.
No, it’s the imaginary Perfects that really send you into the pits of hell. The cyber ones, you know, the people we think have a perfect life because we see what they want us to see. They LOL at inside jokes with other Perfects. What the hell? You followed them first! Their 140 characters are always #soooo.ff, their YouTube videos go viral, their blogs get re-blogged and they get virtual rewards for their shit all the time. Perfects!
You start to curse them, and not just under your breath. You stop, drop and roll everywhere you go – timelines, blogs, chat rooms – soon you’re known as the F Tweeter. You didn’t want that title, but once you let loose, it stuck.
***The Fine Print***The Perfects aren’t perfect. Everybody, EVERYBODY has shit in their lives. Funny, cool, sassy, passionate, creative people are also vulnerable, flawed, generous, ordinary people looking for a way to connect, to share something of themselves that can be accepted, supported or recognized by someone else as good, or at least good enough.
Check out an entertaining and honest look at Fame and Glory and Freshly DePressed. We’re laughing together, and there is nothing more perfect than that!