“I know you will never get married when you are looking like that…You have a good career, a brilliant writer, the kindest of hearts and a kick ass sense of humor but come on…you could put some effort into yourself. You are cute, you just are not trying. That way no guy will put a ring on that finger”
I pause, for a person who has been having a bad month in terms of scratched corneas, high stress levels, insomnia and fatigue, getting up and into a Gucci pant suit isn’t my cup of tea. But again, when was it ever?
I take a deep breath, look up at the haze of smoke I am making, think about the deadlines I have and the ever present hassle of getting time to look over the family issues, getting time to go to the gym, eat, work, see my friends and sleep.
And I realize, I am not trying not because I don’t have the time and when I do have the time I would rather curl up with a good book or see what Barney Stinson has been up to with the How I met your mother gang.
But again, even if I had a 60 hour day, I still would not take more than 10 minutes to get dressed. See, clothing, originally, are meant to cover you up. Make up is not my thing and I am not a designer whore.
I think I am just not the ladiest of ladies and I never seemed to mind.
I look at my friend with the earlier comment, I simply smile and say “Try for what?”.
“To get a guy”
Again, “for what?”
“To marry you, silly”
One more time “for what?”
She asks “marry you for what?”
I nod, smiling.
She says “because You have to be married at some point”
See, suddenly I am no longer a brilliant writer, a great friend, sister, daughter, manager or employee.
I am the girl with no ring on her finger.
I go to the bathroom, take a deep look in the mirror. And I genuinely like what I see, I appreciate what I see. I am thankful for what I see and have.
I just don’t have a ring on my finger, that is all.
I go back to the table, smiling, she says” what are you smiling about?”.
“Simple, I am the girl who has no ring on her finger but has the world at her fingertips, if some guy can’t get past the jeans and T shirt and the everlasting lipstick-less smile, he should live with it, not me!!”
I sat down, and the world still stayed at my ring-less fingers. And men continued to live with their failure to put a ring on my finger.
I pause, for a person who has been having a bad month in terms of scratched corneas, high stress levels, insomnia and fatigue, getting up and into a Gucci pant suit isn’t my cup of tea. But again, when was it ever?
I take a deep breath, look up at the haze of smoke I am making, think about the deadlines I have and the ever present hassle of getting time to look over the family issues, getting time to go to the gym, eat, work, see my friends and sleep.
And I realize, I am not trying not because I don’t have the time and when I do have the time I would rather curl up with a good book or see what Barney Stinson has been up to with the How I met your mother gang.
But again, even if I had a 60 hour day, I still would not take more than 10 minutes to get dressed. See, clothing, originally, are meant to cover you up. Make up is not my thing and I am not a designer whore.
I think I am just not the ladiest of ladies and I never seemed to mind.
I look at my friend with the earlier comment, I simply smile and say “Try for what?”.
“To get a guy”
Again, “for what?”
“To marry you, silly”
One more time “for what?”
She asks “marry you for what?”
I nod, smiling.
She says “because You have to be married at some point”
See, suddenly I am no longer a brilliant writer, a great friend, sister, daughter, manager or employee.
I am the girl with no ring on her finger.
I go to the bathroom, take a deep look in the mirror. And I genuinely like what I see, I appreciate what I see. I am thankful for what I see and have.
I just don’t have a ring on my finger, that is all.
I go back to the table, smiling, she says” what are you smiling about?”.
“Simple, I am the girl who has no ring on her finger but has the world at her fingertips, if some guy can’t get past the jeans and T shirt and the everlasting lipstick-less smile, he should live with it, not me!!”
I sat down, and the world still stayed at my ring-less fingers. And men continued to live with their failure to put a ring on my finger.
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