Looking like a porn star

May I say how hot I look in my new glasses? Slightly dorky, slightly dykey, and very very smart with a wee bit of style thrown in. But since they are only prescribed for distance activities and I use them off-label when my eyes hurt from sitting in front of the computer at hour #11, I don’t wear them often enough for them to become part of my identity. So each time I slip the frame behind my ears I feel like I am playing dress up. I see myself in the mirror but an alter ego stares back. I become the embodiment of Clark Kent, my glasses acting as a mediator to the outside world for my eccentric behavior. Like a girl wearing thick framed librarian glasses can’t say the world pussy. Or maybe its use just takes on a classier more ironic twist. Like when I punctuate every sentence with the word dude as Dostoyevsky sits in my Lulu Guinness bag.

As I’ve mentioned, I got thick framed black librarian glasses. And with my big boobs, I definitely look slightly pornographic. You know, those porns where the busty ditz is interviewing for a job and some how ends up sucking some guys cock instead of explaining the strengths she will bring to the company. Being pornography, the producers of the films can’t dress up the girl to look professional, suit and button down shirt and all. So, the girl ends up wearing a figuring hugging mini skirt, tight sweater and glasses to imply that she is smart and sexy. It’s how I ended up feeling last week when I was wearing a curve hugging knee length skirt and a tight sweater with my smart girl glasses.

And as we have seen in this blog, I have a small problem with censoring the shit that I say. It’s not as interesting altering jokes just because you are in “professional” company. And yes, maybe this is yet another reason for me to quit my job and move to LA to write for sitcoms.

So my boss takes a look at me in the glasses and says how I look cute in them. I tell her that I thought I looked like a porn star:

“You know, when you see a porn and the girl is wearing these types of glasses with an outfit such as mine?”

“Uhm, no Shannon. I don’t watch porn.”

“No, you know what I mean. When they wear these outfits and the glasses and it just looks so contrived…” I wanted to explain the contradiction of femininity and intellect. How we all know that cultural reference but instead…

Insert foot in mouth. In addition to thinking that I am weirdo who hangs out with anarchists, she now thinks I am a pervert who regularly watches porn. I turned an innocent compliment into a glimpse of my sexually frustrated soul.

In other news, I don’t think I will be too sexually frustrated in the near future. Date with CL boy went fabulously. Not only did I look hot because I went for the girl next door with a twist look, but each time he went to get me a drink, another boy popped on over and started to hit on me! Thus reinforcing my hotness for the evening and inspiring a bit of jealously on his end. Especially as I chatted to the guys until he returned with my beer in hand.

“Did you know those guys Shannon?”

“No, but it is a friendly bar. Everyone chats to each other.”

“Shannon, I get up and a guy comes over and hits on you!”

*Smile* “Oh, come on! I am sure he was just being friendly. Why would a guy hit on me if it is obvious I am here talking to someone,” careful not to use the word“date” to keep him on his toes.

But, I think this one will be staying past date #1…especially if he fixes my dresser as promised as his kisses and the graze of my hand live up to my impure thoughts.
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I promise more postings this week, thanks for understanding the haitus. And a prettier site when I get back from London too.

Oh, and by the way, any readers who can get me into Anabel’s while I am there, I’ll bring you into the infamous fray with me and show you that the shit I write on here is true.

Seriously. Please. I need to feel special on someone else’s dime.