If I were born a hundred years ago, I think I'd be locked away in an asylum for hysterical women. I can only hope that I'd have the opportunity to be a guinea pig for one of those fancy new electro-vibrators. Nothing relieves hysteria like an orgasm or twelve.
But even if I could calm my frazzled Victorian nerves, with my blind-as-a-bat sorry excuse for eye-sight, I'd never be able to cross a room without sustaining a life threatening injury. I know they had glasses back then, I just don't think I would have worn them. What with spending all my money on handsome young doctors to administer hysteria treatments, I probably couldn't have afforded them and even if I could, they'd have been way too thick and heavy to wear anyway.
Of course, I'd likely live in a house with cats. From what I understand everyone had a cat for mousing, and there's no way I'd just live with the scampering little crumb-snatching rodents. So I would have cats. Maybe five or six. Because I tend to overdo things and because that's what crazy women did back then. Which means my allergies would flare up, and I would rub my nose raw with a twice-starched hanky. Think of all the embroidery I would soil. Think of how chronically dehydrated I'd be from the mucus loss.
I would looked worse than the Madwoman in the Attic from Jane Eyre. As in, call me Bertha and hide the matches.
And since many introverted types are prone to depression--we just love think too much--there's a likely chance I'd have thrown in a little Emily Dickinson-style eccentricity for good measure. To be honest, I kind of already have that now, only back then a woman as feisty and opinionated as myself would have been considered just plain crazy. And without chemical help, my PMS would be out of control.
I wouldn't just be undateable, I'd be unfit for polite society. Especially when you add the fact that there's no way I'm doing the laundry in winter or wearing petticoats in summer.
Hank bless the pharmaceutical companies. They may have our money rather than our health at heart, but they do make some really useful drugs. And contact lenses--I don't know who makes those--but we can't forget the contact lenses. And laser-eye surgery. If I even get the money and courage at the same time, I am so doing that.
Seriously, people. If it weren't for modern medicine, I would be sporting an angry green bulge of a varicose vein on my otherwise pretty left leg, because I have "weak" veins. I might still have a bad case of not-so-adolescent acne. I certainly would have a pack of wheezing, myopic children crawling all over me. I wouldn't have these pretty white teeth. And I would still suffer from head-slamming, blinding, vomit-inducing migraines that appear, for all intents and purposes, to be a form of demonic possession.
And the mood swings, well, we just won't go there.
The geek world, formerly the outcasts and ugly-ducklings of society, flourishes not only because of the advent of the personal computer. That certainly helps. But the bottom line is that geeks have gotten better looking. A lifetime of poor dental hygiene can be overcome by a day at the dentist. Tourette's Syndrome can be controlled with drugs. For that matter, so can most schizophrenia (A Beautiful Mind, anyone?). And the stereotype of the wheezing, sneezing nerd has all but gone out the window. Not to mention the easy accessibility of such necessary evils as electrolysis, hair transplants, chin implants, lypo-suction, and ear-pinning. And don't forget hair dye for the women.
All that and computers eliminated the need for pens, and therefore pocket protectors, too?
Score.
Are we more shallow? Maybe. But we are also infinitely easier on the eyes.




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