Fairly Innocent
'Vindictive' is such an ugly word. I prefer to think of vindication as an expression of my own personal power. It's not a negative from where I stand. If I'm anything, I'm quiet. I don't stalk or say nasty things. I don't slash tires or attempt to ruin lives. No, history says that I prefer to hit the gym and spray a little perfume in the right place. Long, long ago I determined that fitness is absolutely the best revenge. Fortunately and unfortunately, I'm damn good at it. Thanks for the motivation, Sweetpea. Not only am I tanned and hot, I'm probably adding years to my life.
On several occasions in the past, I used my 'scent' to help me extract revenge; vindication, if you will. Power often comes from the smallest of statements. All I needed to do was spray a little mist of perfume in the right place and I was in charge. Once upon a time, I bought the perfume my ex-girlfriend loved and went to the Bar. I slid in next to her to say hi and I was greeted with, 'You bitch'. That's power, my friends. Pure and unadulterated power. The cost? $13 on a discount perfume website. Incidentally, I continued wearing that same perfume. It even became my 'signiture scent'. When one of the exes broke up with me AND left her clothes in my closet, I took the opportunity to spray my perfume all over said clothes. Rumor has it her new girlfriend didn't like smelling my perfume every time she opened her closet door. Oh, my bad. Karma is indeed a bitch. Revenge? Vindication? Call it what you want. I'm fairly innocent.
This week I fell back upon my tried and true. Hotness. It's a beautiful thing. And according to the most recent person in my life who decided that she was more 'smitten' with someone else, my body was near perfect to begin with. As luck would have it, my gym has free tanning. I've taken advantage of that little benefit four times this week already. Nothing makes a 'perfect' body more perfect than a nice, bronze tan. Ha! Not to mention that I've been losing weight largely without trying. I'm golden. Golden, I say. Hot equals Power. Every time, including Christmas Day.
I know what I've got and I'd argue that it's far from perfect, but that's not the point in question here. Does someone out there who wants to be with someone else think my body is perfect? Yes (Go me!). Is my body more perfect than the one she wants to be with? Safe bet, kids. Safe bet (Again, go me!). Reality is not the issue here. The issue is her perception and let me tell you, I'm planning to give her a lot to perceive. Call me vindictive. I'll agree with you. I am. Karma is the body you think is perfect and can't have. Because you chose not to have it.
Hoody-hoo. I'm good. What's the worst that happens for me? I get hotter and tanner? I don't see that as a bad thing. If anything, I'll like myself better, get more confident, and become even more attractive. I know it's not quite in my personality, but moments like this make me wish it was bikini season year round. At forty-one, almost forty-two, I can rock the bikini. Especially when properly motivated by rejection. So what is my friend facing? Oh, I'll be around and be fabulous every time I see her. My body, intellect, and humor will be on display for everyone to enjoy. It's just my way of saying 'good luck with that'. Really we weren't anything anyway. But still, personal power is personal power. And I'm going to flex it where I can. Sorry for your bad luck, Sweetpea. You had perfect and you let it go.
On several occasions in the past, I used my 'scent' to help me extract revenge; vindication, if you will. Power often comes from the smallest of statements. All I needed to do was spray a little mist of perfume in the right place and I was in charge. Once upon a time, I bought the perfume my ex-girlfriend loved and went to the Bar. I slid in next to her to say hi and I was greeted with, 'You bitch'. That's power, my friends. Pure and unadulterated power. The cost? $13 on a discount perfume website. Incidentally, I continued wearing that same perfume. It even became my 'signiture scent'. When one of the exes broke up with me AND left her clothes in my closet, I took the opportunity to spray my perfume all over said clothes. Rumor has it her new girlfriend didn't like smelling my perfume every time she opened her closet door. Oh, my bad. Karma is indeed a bitch. Revenge? Vindication? Call it what you want. I'm fairly innocent.
This week I fell back upon my tried and true. Hotness. It's a beautiful thing. And according to the most recent person in my life who decided that she was more 'smitten' with someone else, my body was near perfect to begin with. As luck would have it, my gym has free tanning. I've taken advantage of that little benefit four times this week already. Nothing makes a 'perfect' body more perfect than a nice, bronze tan. Ha! Not to mention that I've been losing weight largely without trying. I'm golden. Golden, I say. Hot equals Power. Every time, including Christmas Day.
I know what I've got and I'd argue that it's far from perfect, but that's not the point in question here. Does someone out there who wants to be with someone else think my body is perfect? Yes (Go me!). Is my body more perfect than the one she wants to be with? Safe bet, kids. Safe bet (Again, go me!). Reality is not the issue here. The issue is her perception and let me tell you, I'm planning to give her a lot to perceive. Call me vindictive. I'll agree with you. I am. Karma is the body you think is perfect and can't have. Because you chose not to have it.
Hoody-hoo. I'm good. What's the worst that happens for me? I get hotter and tanner? I don't see that as a bad thing. If anything, I'll like myself better, get more confident, and become even more attractive. I know it's not quite in my personality, but moments like this make me wish it was bikini season year round. At forty-one, almost forty-two, I can rock the bikini. Especially when properly motivated by rejection. So what is my friend facing? Oh, I'll be around and be fabulous every time I see her. My body, intellect, and humor will be on display for everyone to enjoy. It's just my way of saying 'good luck with that'. Really we weren't anything anyway. But still, personal power is personal power. And I'm going to flex it where I can. Sorry for your bad luck, Sweetpea. You had perfect and you let it go.
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