Trump wanted Tiffany aborted...newly unearthed video reveals..

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34. I actually do. I know how that feels.

Last edited Mon Oct 3, 2016, 11:37 AM - Edit history (1)

My father ogled women ALL THE DAMN FUCKING TIME!!!! Couldn't keep his eyes to himself, even when my mom was right there, in the same room or even seated or standing next to him. He couldn't help himself. It used to irritate the hell outta me. Both my parents made very sure and very clear that I was inferior to most of my girlfriends and classmates in the looks department. I had a weight problem as a teenager, a big nose, and very thick glasses because I was horrendously nearsighted. I think at one time my vision was actually categorized as legally blind. My dad's business at one point was in the health and fitness arena. So there were some slim, lovely, photogenic, long-legged models (usually blonde) in the picture. There were some times when I thought I should have brought a bib along in case he'd start drooling! It made me VERY angry.

And mind you - this fat ugly unathletic nerdy kid of theirs was also a star student, straight A's on every report card, lots of extra-curricular activities, hard-working, extra-credit-earning and at times a teacher's pet-type. I was the "nice girl" that other mothers wanted their kids to hang out with. I never got in trouble because I was always home studying! Besides, nobody was ever interested in dating me, or taking me to the dance. Blind date for the senior prom. Every school dance I was one of the lonely handful of girls left standing along the edge of the dance floor til about 11pm, waiting to be asked to dance. That would be about the time I'd finally get asked - when I was literally the ONLY girl standing alone by then, and the boys who were cute or on the football team had been dancing and/or busy making out, outside in the bushes, with all the pretty girls (or the ones with big boobs) most of the evening.

So I was EXTRA conscious and EXTRA sensitive about physical looks (of which I had none).

When I was about four or so, I remember my mom telling me this joke:

"Two women get into an elevator and notice a little girl is already in there. As they all ride up to the upper floors, one woman remarks to her friend - 'she's not very P-R-E-T-T-Y.' And the little girl pipes up with - "no, but I AM very S-M-A-R-T.'" I remember not reacting too much except to smile a little. But I can also CLEARLY remember how, deep down, I found myself wondering - "why are you telling me THAT joke, Mom?"

I look somewhat better now. I'll always struggle with weight even though I've kept it fairly well under control from college onward. I eventually had that Lasik surgery that did away with those glasses and the series of contact lenses, hard AND soft, that never fit me well and were never comfortable and always made me squint. Had to have a deviated septum corrected to help me breathe better once I started working on the air, which, happily enough, also took a bit off my oversized nose while they were at it (how'd you like to have a bunch of guys and other girls laugh at you because one of them started calling you "eagle beak" and then tell you to turn to the side and then they'd screech - "HA HA HA! Look at THAT! You look like Kirk Douglas!"?).

And maybe I'm one of those who ages well - or well enough. Kinda like Terry Jones of Monty Python. He could dress himself up as the homeliest guy OR woman, in skits. But in later life, as I saw in what I think was a National Geographic series he hosted, he was actually rather handsome! And I do still have good skin - that was NOT one of my problems as a teenager. But hell, I'm in my early 60s now, and how I look no longer matters anyway. It never did to my husband, either. Actually, he thought I looked just fine - then AND now.

But lemme tellya - you haven't lived til you walk through the living room as a teenager, and notice your own father lowering his eyes as you pass, so he doesn't have to look at you.