I was raised to never use the word "ugly" when referring to someones looks. I always believed that if I called someone ugly, even in casual conversation, it come back to haunt me like a contagious disease. I'm not saying I've never used the word, because I have, but usually as an adjective to describe someones actions or a situation gone out of control. As a description of someones physical appearance, I would describe them as simply "unattractive" as a matter of reference. Truth is, I really don't see people as "ugly", as the word itself denotes negativity in actions more than physical appearance. The most beautiful people in the world can still be "ugly", as one's actions speak much louder than the perfect shade of lipstick and a genetically gifted hair-do.
I'm ashamed to admit it (but if I can't confess to you people, who can I confess to) but I used "ugly" this weekend as an adjective to describe how someone looks, which immediately renders me the UGLY one. I can't even explain this one away, citing provocation or a nasty encounter, and now I am doomed. There was no scene. Nothing happened to embarrass or hurt anyone, I just stepped up on the "petty stoop" and stood up there for a while to see how it felt.
My daughter had a show on Friday night and the EX-Ass showed up with his new wife and mother-in-law in tow. I was selling refreshments and tickets, (the mothers of the performers all volunteer), and was one of the first people in the line of sight when walking in. My son was with me, selling refreshments, myself and another mother had ticket sales. At the time, I was helping Frack make change for a $20 when I heard the EX complaining about how I was supposed to reserve tickets for him and how "it figures" that I had not done so. The other mother asked me if I had reserved his tickets somewhere else because there was no envelope bearing his name, when I calmly explained that there was no need to reserve tickets for anyone as there were plenty of tickets availiable for purchase. It was then that I smugly smiled and looked up and saw her.
I had only seen his new wife once or twice, at a golf tournament when she was wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses and in the car a few times when they have picked up my son. This was the first time I got a good look at her. God help me, you know what I was thinking. Now if we are going to talk about physical appearance, I need to be fair here and set the stage proplerly.
She's a cute package, from a distance (and as I said that's about the closest I ever got to her) She has a pretty blonde, Jenny McCarthy hair style, is in great physical shape and is seven years younger than I. But like most smoke an mirror shows, the smoke had cleared and I was able to get a good look for the first time, face to face.
Let's just say that the tanning booth she has been abusing, is doing the unsightly long blonde facial hair that covered her entire face not a bit of justice. Nor is the leathery appearance of her sun-burned skin that served to highlight her botched veneers (Mave, they looked sort of "black-ish" at the gum-line. why is that?) The look of intimidation on her face told me that my picture has been successfully painted as the Wicked Witch of the West by my EX-Ass, which was confirmed by her mother not ever making eye contact with me. They went into the theatre and I was left with that nasty adjective that I speak of today, running through my head. I am doomed to hell for even thinking it, let alone saying it, but I couldn't help but feel a certain sense of victory.
For a short time the "petty stoop" felt good, but today I feel like I am the only one who can be described as ugly.