Since I joined Weight Watchers on Feb. 28, I have lost 7 pounds. Which, you know, yay.
So on Sunday I had the day drinker try to pick me up in the parking lot of my pedicure salon, "salon" being a strong word. Then yesterday a construction worker acknowledged me ("Hello, Beautiful!" he said into my car window as I drove past slowly because his partner was doing something sketchy-looking with telephone wires. My irresistible beauty probably cost that coworker use of one side of his body.) Also, a coworker said, "Wow! You're losing weight!"
Then last night I was headed to Ned's, where Ned may or may not have been lucky enough to catch the season finale of Real Housewives with me, and I called him before I got there. "I'm going to the grocery store. Do you need anything?"
"Can you bring wine?" asked Ned, who serves communion to his entire apartment complex. Ned is extremely spiritual.
My point is, I got carded. "Let's see if you're 21," said the nine-year-old whippersnapper at the checkout stand. "Oh, I like you a lot," I said, handing over my ID, which is a nice picture of me if I do say so myself.
What I am saying to you is, who knew that I was seven pounds from being the world's most attractive woman? Who knew there were only seven pounds between me and kicking Halle Berry's ass in a beauty contest? She would so be getting that Monopoly card and collecting $10.
They never call things "beauty contest"s anymore, do they? We have to be all evasive and call them scholarship competitions, or Miss Jane Hathaway County or whatever. Let's get back to calling a spade a spade. We lookin' to see if you ugly.
Now that I am superior and seven lbs. lighter, I can be bitchy this way.
Oh! And speaking of bitchy, this is confidential to my fellow intellectually advanced Real Housewives fans: Everyone needs to leave Lisa Vanderpump alone. She did not do anything. Why is everybody always picking on her?
I'm on my way to her house now. I'm going to discuss the challenges of being so hot in today's society.
Oh! P.S. Are you leaving comments and they aren't showing up? I've had people tell me their comments disappear. Obviously, email me to tell me this, and don't leave a...comment. Which will just disappear, there, sparky. Geez, I hope you're as pretty as me, at least.