Mountains and Pleasure

I received an email today, regarding a previous one I had sent a couple of weeks ago. It was an answer of sorts. In the original email, I had sent a photograph of my siblings, me and my dad, which was taken during our recent trip to surprise him for his 75th birthday. It was the first time we had all been together in the same room for a long time.

My email pen pal made some remarks about the way I looked in the photograph. I thought I looked like I had a couple of glasses of wine (or more) after a very tough airplane ride which was only an hour late leaving, thus making us an hour late. My eyes were all googly and my clothes looked a bit rumpled. On the other hand, my siblings had been leisurely waiting all day for us to arrive, so they were well groomed, well coifed, and had impeccable make up, when necessary.

The comment was made that he thought I was pretty. Then he made a reference to mountains which were not directly attached to the comments about me, with the exception that they are also pretty. I concur. He made that very clear by saying he wasn’t even looking at my boobs. I didn’t think he had. You can barely see them in the photo. Then he backtracked and said he thought my blouse was pretty. I agreed.

But I disagreed with his assessment of my looks. I stand by my opinion that I have a very odd face. Believe me, I’ve been told that in some not-so-kind situations. However, I’m beyond worrying about what I look like. I no longer care if people think I’m pretty. This may be a sign of maturity, or it may be because I’m just too tired to give a damn anymore. It’s far easier to go braless and makeup-less and wear comfortable clothes instead of getting dolled up in mini skirts and halter tops.

Okay. I must admit. These comments came from MIB. But the fact that I’m writing about this now is not to show off his comments, which might seem a little odd to those who don’t know of our relationship. No, it’s something which brings me pleasure and is worth so much more than a bible of flattery ever could. Besides, I don’t really believe him anyway. I know what I look like. I see myself in the mirror every day.

I laughed when I read this email, and to me that is what is most precious. Oh, yes, I laughed very hard. In fact, I laughed so hard, I caused a minor commotion in my office. Then I reread the paragraph about mountains and laughed some more.

I like getting emails like that.

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10 Responses

  1. Thanks! I felt the mountains was inspired. Of course, it was inspired by you.

    Now that I’ve read your disagreement, I think I can clarify. I think that comfort is pretty. The braless makeup-less comfortable clothes thing is way more attractive than the dolled up in mini skirts and halter tops thing. That isn’t to say getting all dressed up on occasion isn’t fun. It is. But for daily beauty, comfort rules.

    Maybe that was just a particularly good photo.

    Sometimes I wonder about people seeing only this side of what we write. I wonder what they must think. I don’t wonder much though ’cause I don’t care. They can think whatever they want.

    Oh…and I reread that paragraph again. Thanks again. It made me think that I am an deeply odd being. And I like it like that.

  2. I understand. It’s nice to get a compliment from someone who has no ulterior motive and simply loves you for who you are. If they’re able to make you laugh, it’s the icing.

  3. Who says I have no ulterior motive? Oh. Hmm. Me. I don’t.

    But, you have it backwards…she makes me laugh. That’s why I love her. Oh. Wait. I have it backwards too. She’s nice and she makes me laugh. The fact that I think she’s pretty is icing. Or not. I always end up thinking people look good.

  4. I don’t think you have an odd face.

  5. Thanks, BGG. I have the same problem of wondering what people must think of us. But like you, I don’t care. I know what’s going on.

    And Scout, you are the only one… That’s why the self portrait here.

  6. I too have seen your face, and I think your head would look damn odd without it. I cant imagine you looking any different than you do.

    I think it’s neat that you feel comfortable enough with each other to carry on as you do, and I love reading the exchanges.

  7. What Jojo said.

  8. I think we can be realistic about how we look, and still believe that someone else thinks we’re good looking, since people have very different understandings of what is attractive. On the other hand, and to contradict what I’ve just said, I actually do have a problem believing when people say I’m pretty, since my understanding of pretty is anything but what I am. I will believe that a man thinks I’m beautiful, though, or gorgeous, or practically anything else (even if I don’t necessarily agree). Pretty just seems too delicate or conventional or something.

    A friend told me recently, after seeing my picture for the first time, that I look ‘kissable’. I thought that was nice.

  9. That is nice! But how can you tell lips are kissable from a photo? Wouldn’t you have to see the flesh in person to really make an accurate judgment?

  10. Hmmmm. I’ll have to ask him about that.

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