I have a coworker who is so pretty I don't understand how her head doesn't explode.
She's one of those people that, in person, you can't help but just kind of stare at her in wonder. I'm really tempted to ask her if she's ever, like, in the bathroom washing her hands; she's looking down at her sudsy hands, rubbing them together, and then glances up to check her bangs. Does she ever just look up and, upon seeing her reflection, go, "DAMN!"?
(I'm sorry for the cursing, but it's really the only phrase that's appropriate here.)
She's so pretty that sitting across from her in a meeting, I can't help but picture her with many arms, hanging as a tapestry on someone's living room wall. I can't help but picture, as she sits there modestly, the men around her like those cartoon characters who go "AaawOooGaah" while their eyeballs pop out of their heads. She's that pretty.
I hope she doesn't read this. How awkward will that be in the next meeting when she's picturing me picturing her with 4 or more arms? But maybe she'll tell me the answer to the bathroom question.
On a similar note: Am I Too Old to Wear Pigtails?
I wore pigtails to work today, which is appropriate as I'm still, "in my twenties" for three more weeks. But do I need to stop come July 12th?
Instead of looking youthful and cute, am I instead going to start to look like someone's eccentric aunt who smells like patchouli and owns a pottery wheel?
Will I be like the person Elizabeth Gilbert fears she might become in this, my favorite passage from Eat, Pray, Love (a book I don't necessarily recommend, except that she's a great writer): I had a sudden horrifying image of the woman I might become if I'm not careful: Crazy Aunt Liz. The divorcee in the muumuu with the dyed orange hair who doesn't eat dairy but smokes menthols...who reads the Tarot cards of kindergarteners and says things like, "Bring Aunty Liz another wine cooler, baby, and I'll let you wear my mood ring."
If this is who I'll slowly become if I wear pigtails past 30, please let me know, or at least pass the Menthols.
Quote of the Day
At home: There is a marked paucity of underwear in my underwear drawer. (Said by...take a leaping guess.)
At work: Did you put a chicken on my desk? (Said by two coworkers I passed in the hallway soberly discussing who put a chicken on whose desk.)