Happy Friday, fabulous friends and family! I love alliteration.
Anywho, today I saw something funny on the way to work. I wanted plenty of time to get to work so I could be early for the Stat GAAP class I took this morning (What? I will perhaps cover this in a later post). Ok so I’m in the car, vroom-vrooming and la-di-daing my way east on 64 (as stated previously, it’s like the karaoke half-hour for me), and I’m passing car after car, doing some good people watching while obviously keeping my eyes on the road at all times. Suddenly out of nowhere there comes this red civic…the kind that came out in 1992 that run for 200,000,000 miles before you have to trade it in. As I’m coming up on this here quality vehicle, I notice a very large playboy bunny sticker on the rear passenger-side window. And not just any size sticker, it’s like a person-size rendering of the bunny’s head, complete with bowtie. It is HUGE. I mean this thing took up the entire side window. Then I notice…there’s one on BOTH sides of the car. Both. Sides. Is this really necessary? Ok so my judgementalism kicks in (you know you are straight up hatin on every person you pass on the highway every day), and I immediately think Kendra from that show about Hugh’s sexy young “girlfriends” (if it was a dude it would have been the silhouette of the naked chic…seen those? Real classy). Ok well this…”lady” was not even from the same planet as Kendra. [Major judgement time:] This lady is possibly the biggest woman I’ve ever seen. In my life, even. I mean HUGE. And it wasn’t like oh well if she lost some weight in her face she’d be pretty. I’m sorry, no. So I’m sort of like staring in shock (she’s 2 lanes away), and then she looked over at me! Dear Jesus deliver me from this section of highway to another section. She has clearly just caught me in prime judgemental mode. The look on her face was just deadly and had she not been exiting onto 295 at that moment, it would have been battle of the tiny vehicles. I have 172 brand new turbo-charged horses on my side though (sexy), pretty sure I would have won. Regardless, I got caught and learned something about myself: I have no control over my judgmental face. What does that mean, Miss Sassy? Well…
Apparently I can go from a smiling, pleasant face, to a grimace or scowl that portrays my judgmental thoughts. Those of you that know me well know to which expressions I refer. But don’t worry, you have one too! If you enjoy people-watching, you know you have a judgmental face, or JF. As I was discussing with my dear loving Twin last night, you could be in mid-convo with someone, happen to witness something trife behind said someone, and BAM. Your attention is diverted and your face morphs. You may say, “No Miss Sassy, I’m good at holding back and not letting my thoughts show on my face!” All I have to say is: No you are not. Sorry bout it. We all do it! The funniest part from my convo with Twin was that in her group of friends when one of them gets the JF, the others call that girl out by calling her by her mother’s name. Because especially for the ladies, where do you learn your JF from? Your mother! No matter what you say, that’s where it comes from. She’s been doing it your whole life! And it’s impossible that you haven’t witnessed at least 234,658 instances of it. And mothers: you should not take offense to this! We secretly aspire to be like you, and no matter what we say or how hard we try not to be, I think it’s genetic and really can’t be stopped. My judgement face is just like Momma Sassy’s. Twin’s is just like her Momma’s. So on and so forth. Dudes: you judge too, but you’re a different animal and I don’t want to get into it. But you judge, rest assured.
Anywho, my thoughts on judging are this: while it is not classy or sassy to be outwardly judgmental or rude to people, it is sassy to NOT be hypocrite! You know you do it, so own it! And friends, let’s call each other out on this! It always gets a good laugh. Plus, it’s like mean girls. I was majorly judging the..um..large chick with the bunnies (God forbid she even…yucky thoughts, I won’t go there), but let’s be honest people! She was judging me too! I drive a funky looking tiny car, with racing stripes, my hair is huge and frizzy (specially today, thanks awesome Richmond weather), and I was singing to myself out loud, kind of intensely. In the end, it’s almost flattering to be judged. It means you noticed enough of something or someone to form an opinion. And it’s sassy to be noticed…even for really large women.
…This is how I sleep at night. Now, go forth this weekend and get yo sass on!