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05/04/2007: "The Very Secret Model and Me"

It's been an interesting week, folks. After last week's supersized bout of strep throat/sinus infection, the universe decided I wasn't humbled enough, and dished up a nice side order of UTI. I suggest that this is a lovely pairing with an antibiotic appetizer and some cranberry juice. Just sayin.

The other thing that happened this week was that I went to my other other job. I don't know if I've told y'all about my other other job. Just for grins and giggles, I've taken on a very part time and very lucrative gig as a personal assistant to a lovely and disgustingly accomplished older couple. They travel a lot and require me to do things like check in on their beach house and watch their dog, and pick up their exorbitantly expensive organic groceries once a week. It's the easiest job I've ever had. I get lots of perks, and it's pretty damn fun spending other people's money.

Anyhow, the beach house property has been overtaken this week by a crew shooting photos for a catalog. Not just any catalog, a lingerie catalog for a company that for the sake of this story, we'll just call the "Very Secret" company. My clients are out of town on a speaking tour, and the "Very Secret" folks have my phone number as a contact. If need be, I'll have to go out to the beach house and make sure the shooting crew folks aren't driving trucks over the septic system or blowing electrical breakers or parking where they shouldn't be or any of that stuff. So far, so good, right?

The thing about this little scenario is that there are UNDERWEAR MODELS hanging about, and let me tell you, not many things in this world are as sure to put a little chink in the armor of one's self esteem as walking amongst these girls. I think they are all 8 feet tall, skinny as rails, and of course, they have some serious "after market parts" going on if ya know what I mean.

Yesterday, I drive up the private driveway from the beach to the house so I can pick up the doggie. I find my way blocked by a motorhome and a cargo van that the photo crew folks had improperly parked. I get out of my van and go looking for someone to move the offending vehicles. One of the underwear models is sauntering down the driveway with two folks who were obviously stylists of some sort. As this little entourage walks by me, I smile and say hi and cheerily mention to no one in particular that I'll just be heading up the drive and back down in a jiffy. (The drive up to the house is very steep and only one lane, so you do have to coordinate the trips each way lest you meet another car on the drive)
I assured them that I wouldn't be in THEIR way or anything. I was very professional, courteous and as nice as can be. I am nothing if not polite. I tried to make idle chat with the group while the van and motorhome drivers were located and the vehicles being moved. (I swear I wasn't a dork or anything, for once!)

That model girlie looked me up and down in a very appraising and judgemental and OBVIOUS way. Sizing me up, so to speak. She then looked at one of the stylists after I spoke to her and ROLLED HER EYES as if to say "Why the hell is the FAT GIRL talking to me, OMG, what do I do?"
She didn't speak and just looked at me like I was some kind of freak apparition, as I sat there waiting for the van and the motorhome to move. I was only too happy to abandon my attempts at a conversation and head back to my van. I wasn't really surprised to hear a snicker or two behind my back as I walked away.

I am the mother of a 12 year old girl and I know a fair bit about eye-rolling and snarkiness. This was a world-class example of "Mean Girl 101".
If my daughter had given me an eye-roll and attitude like that, she would have been slapped from here into next week. (Okay not really, cause my daughter could totally take me in a fight, but it's a tempting thought when those eye rolls happen, y'know?!)

Anyhow, I was a little bit pissed and as I drove away, I was thinking about why this girl was such a bitch to me for no reason at all. I know that these models are pampered and cosseted and probably have little interaction with real non-Barbie people out in the big bad world. Then, I had an epiphany and it all became SO clear to me!

I will share with you, my lovely readers, my theory about this! Are you waiting for it? it's a revolutionary thought!

I decided that she... the blond highlighted, pneumatically enhanced, "Very Secret" girl was actually jealous of ME (!!!) because, clearly, I'm the only one of that crowd who has had a decent meal in AGES!
I mean really, think about it. She probably had nothing in her system at all and would have been sweet as can be if only she had a nice sammich and a cookie! Low blood sugar can make you a bitch, I'm here to tell ya!

Okay maybe she wasn't jealous of me, but girlfriend still needed a sammich, I'm sure of it. HEE!

It is a unique experience, taking up a lot of space in this world and having people look at you and immediately make judgments based on nothing more than weight and size. I'm a tall girl and a fat girl, and I really make no apologies. For whatever reason, some folks are seriously bothered by this. People do make snap judgements, and you can see it in their eyes and their expressions. It used to bother me a lot more, but these days I'm happy in my skin. I have an amazing husband who, despite all my idiosyncrasies, is firmly convinced of my fabulousness.

Of course it doesn't hurt that I can rock the natural cleavage in a way that Very Secret girl can only dream of. Seriously... brick house mighty-mighty amounts of cleavage. Which, of course, I will be sporting tonight along with my amazing "lucky" shoes as I go out with my husband. I can even use some of the money I've saved on collagen and botox to buy and drink a toast to the poor "Very Secret" girl, who will probably be freezing her judgemental sour ass off at the beach and counting the calories in the three saltine crackers she has allowed herself for dinner.

Back soon y'all! *mwah*