The Glamorous

There's a blog I read sometimes. I don't read it everyday, I don't link to it and I've never commented on it. It's because I don't like the author. She's a snob.

Then why read it? I don't know, I think it's because being a mean girl is interesting. It's like those girls in high school you didn't like but secretly wanted to be friends with. I don't want to develop a blog-relationship with this woman, but I am sometimes curious about what she's up to. Even though I find myself rolling my eyes at her posts, shaking my head or even voicing the occasional "what a bitch!"

She's the skinny girl who knows she's skinny but complains about being fat so someone will tell her she's not. She's the girl at the bar batting her eyelashes, sticking out her cleavage and fake laughing to get a guy's interest, only to toss her hair in his face and move on the minute he buys her a drink. You know they type I'm talking about. She may come across as pretty, but her insides are ugly. And although I've never seen her, I know this is true. Because like all of us who blog, she puts herself, her insides, out there for us to read. And I assure you, it's far from pretty.
I wonder if beneath the Prada covered exterior this woman has true friends. Friends that will remain true despite her designer bags, rich husband and big house.

I might not have all those things, but I have a life filled with friendship and love.

And I wouldn't trade that for anything.


** I've had some requests to share the URL for the blog, but I've decided not to. I'm probably just paranoid but oh well. I'll tell you this much, the writing isn't that good and the woman appears to actually be just an aging bitch who now is married with children. Sorry to disappoint, but you're not missing much.