plastic surgery

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Awkward moments in beauty

Published December 11, 2012 by Sandee

Me!

I like to think that I’m artfully bummy.  I know how to be stylish though.  “When she does it, she does it right,” someone said.  I do care what I look like.

But people think that their opinion of their own looks is objective.  I’m pretty, or I’m handsome, they say.  Just a form of self love, maybe?  What else could it be when you say, ‘I’m pretty’ like it’s a statement etched on a library façade?  Some of us believe we’re good-looking, and that it’s a cold fact.  I’ve always said that it all depends on who’s looking at me.  Some days I stand out, other days, I blend in.  It’s more important to focus on having personality.  (Hehe — this is what all aging, average-looking people say.)

I had to have personality, a sense of humor, to have taken some of the comments that I’ve gotten.  At this age when a man stares, I think he just wants to rob me, so I’ll take all the compliments I can get.  But I’ve gotten interesting comments throughout the years.

One coworker said that I looked like Pam Grier.  Pam Grier was fine.  I do not look like no Pam Grier.  I know it’s possible for me to look like a woman who has huge tits when I don’t really have any.  But — really?  This person was on psychedelics, obviously.

I unwittingly jumped in front of a woman in Kentucky Fried Chicken.  I got into a confrontation with the woman and her friend — I was young and stupid.  Outside, once I had gotten waaaaay down the hill, one yelled, “Crackhead!  You ugly bitch!”  I wanted to cry but told her that she was a pussy for telling me this standing a block away.

I do have a penchant for the raggedy.  To top it off I was skinny with platinum hair, a nose ring, and had ordered corn on the cob and biscuits in a Kentucky Fried Chicken – I never ate their chicken.  The bitches thought I was broke.  I could see why calling me an ugly crackhead bitch was a convenient insult.

When I wasn’t blonde, my head was shaved.  “I love a bald headed girl,” this guy said as I was leaving a club.  Yay me!  This was a Latin club where the women have mucho hair, so I might say that it was the highest compliment.

Finally my friend’s mother raved about my mother’s beauty.  “Her skin’s like peaches and cream and her hair is beautiful, and she’s soooo tall,” she said.  “But what about Sandee,” my friend said.  “Oh, she’s all right, but her mother…”  When I want to pretend that I don’t care about my looks, I just remember this.  Ouch!

Wanna know my new idiotic pastime?

Published August 10, 2012 by Sandee

Scanning facebook to delete stupid things that irritate me – stupid things people say, stupid posters I don’t like, or hackneyed internet memes.  Oh but I do enjoy that Oolong the pancake rabbit!  While some of these memes are funny, I rather like hearing original thoughts from those teenie square heads of my facebook ‘friends’.

Know what I like best?  Shhhh — deletin’ stuff you’re not apost ta delete – the sobby begging things with pictures – don’t tell nobody ‘acause, I don’t want people in lieder hosen chasing me with torches to run me outta town, like they did Frankenstein’s Monster!  Trying to get me to take action on a facebook page by using shocking images makes me feel – manipulated.  Maybe you’re eager to show that you’re a generous spirit because you embrace unfortunate souls who have been disfigured.  I have a need also to show how kind hearted I am but no one cares.  If you really want me to know how generous you are, support your cause on the down low and let me discover how humble you are when I accidentally find out years later that you’ve poured thousands of dollars and many hours into said cause without looking for any fanfare or acknowledgement.  Also, please tell me what happens when I click ‘like’ for this that or the other cause.

You know that picture of the mother breast feeding with the caption saying why are we ashamed of this, when we should be ashamed of this — and then it shows three women with big titties in bikinis?  I always focus on the women with the big titties.  I think Hawt damn! I’m going for these if I get implants!  C’mon look at me, I’m fucked up!  Why should it matter to you that I’m like this?

But I do like posts where they talk about what they ate for lunch and what time they took a shit, what it smelled like, whether they used Charmin or Scott to wipe their asses and whether or not they should buy the chartreuse or fuschia fishnets for the women’s auxiliary ball.

Hey Sandee bitch, get a life!