Trashy

I love paradoxes, and I love sarcasm. For anyone who knows me, that is not a surprise. I also like to poke fun at myself. I poke fun at other people but most understand my dry sense of humor. I have been called a bitch many times for comments I have made, but most of the time the person calling me that was laughing. Not too long ago someone called me a hard nosed bitch at the office. But as a good friend and talented business person told me, all bets are off at work. Just because you are short and cute does not mean you can’t get shit done.

I posted a comment about why people put trashy pictures of themselves on Facebook this morning. I noted that I had finally come to the realization that they were trashy themselves. I really was not trying to be funny; I just finally figured out that truth. This is not the first time a comment from me has been taken as funny when not intended that way. When I was a provisional in the Junior League we were touring non-profits in town to see which one we wanted to take on as our group project. Our entire group was profoundly struck by the Battered Women’s Shelter. It was a sad place. I understand that the better furniture and supplies go out with the women once they leave the shelter in order to help them rebuild their lives. The only crib in the shelter was an old worn out bassinet with a dirty mattress. All I could think of was my 13 month-old daughter.

One week later we met as a group to decide what project would work best for all of us. I stood up in the meeting and told the group that even though we were all educated and financially comfortable, we were all one ass beating away from ending up in that shelter ourselves. I also added that I would take a lot of shit from my husband before I would lay down my daughter in that nasty crib. Some people laughed. Some were offended. I never intended the comments to be funny, but I was trying to make a point about the state of mind a woman is in when she needs the Battered Women’s Shelter. My point was that we needed to help the shelter. We did.

Should I really call someone else trashy? Probably not. I was once told by a female boss that boots and a dress were never appropriate office attire. She also added that my clothes were too tight and revealing. I guess she thought a fitted suit and heels made me look like a hooker. I work very hard to keep my butt out of plus sizes. I have been running for the past four years and have yet to lose pound one. I could be on meth and gain weight. I am proud of the way my body looks at age 36 with three kids. My other female boss told me I did not look like a hooker, just a really high priced call girl. She said, “I know you spend a lot of money on those clothes. Screw her!”

For every person who laughs at my posts there is another offended one. I understand that – to each his own. I try to do the right thing by not listening to gossip and refusing to be around other people who do. I also do not let my children say the word hate. I think that evens out my love for sarcasm and my ability to work in profanity like an artist, but my children have sarcasm running through their veins. My daughter talked nonstop about a project she had to make for science class. She needed to make a Wanted Poster for a female scientist. She went into great detail one day in the car about what she needed to put on the poster and how she wanted it to look. Her exasperated eight year old brother finally remarked, “ Geez, just put a mustache on her and be done with it.”

I was one proud bitch.