But bear with me for a moment. I just walked into the kitchen at my work place and received quite a shock. I'm going to semi-predicate this by pointing out that, for whatever reason, every woman at my advertising firm that is within 10 years of my age range is not only super pretty, but also married with 30 children or pregnant with 30 and a Kabbalah birthing pool. Oh, Britney. Anyway, so I'm constantly surrounded by pretty and well coifed people. Welcome to Dallas. But today I walk into the kitchen and there's this woman standing there who is made up and wearing clothes I would never put on, but they're fine for 40 somethings in the work place. She is ugly. Not kind of ugly, mountain bike accident ugly. Freddie Kruger ugly. I was so taken aback that I had to stop myself from letting out a little whimper. It's totally not her fault, either God cursed her at birth or she had a serious burn accident as a child, but it's just bad news. And I give her mad props for taking care of herself despite her face, but wow. I feel so guilty but I just have to tell someone. Also, I'm not really one to judge but wow. It made me realize that while I don't appear to be reeling in the menfolk, I'm not screwed for life either. Of course, this woman is married and probably has a zillion kids, but you get the idea.
Speaking of being made up and well polished, I've made a decision concerning Dallas. I always kind of thought of this city as being fashion savvy. What has become very apparent to me lately is that Dallas is one of the most fashion conscious cities I've ever been in, but not very fashion savvy. That is to say, everyone here, for the most part anyway, is very rich looking. They all have their beautifully expensive shoes, their ostrich skin handbags, and $50 manicures. What they don't have is skinny jeans and gaucho pants. There's not just tons of individuality and everyone is pretty conservative in their clothes, except when they put on their hoochie cowgirl clothes for bars (mmmm leather pants and halter middrifts). Everyone wears sweatpants, but they have to be Prada. Does Prada even make sweatpants? I vote no.
Last but not least, I'm looking to join a community soccer group to get more consistent cardio. You in?
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3 comments:
As it was by the Mayans and other central American Indians. Of course, that was more of a deformity issue as being blessed by the gods. At any rate, I'm not being literal about being cursed. More importantly, this blog is not about the Bible so it's unlikely I would make direct reference to it with any sort of seriousness unless I specify.
save a horse
ride a cowboy
Meg Meg Meg Meg Meg-
You shouldn't freak when someone mentions the Bible. It doesn't necessarily lead to thumping. Besides, idolizing Dante and shunning the Bible is like loving mayonnaise and hating chickens. No chickens, no egg whites, after all. And both are crucial components of our shared Western cultural chicken salad. Man, this metaphor got way out of hand.
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