Why I'd never make it as a nun

Because I'm a quote lover, I have myself signed up to receive "daily inspirations" in the form of quotes from Beliefnet.com. This was the one I got a couple of days ago:

If you judge people, you have no time to love them.

Mother Teresa

Ok - I know Mother Teresa was a saint & all & did all this great stuff for humanity . . . but am I the only one who thinks that perhaps, just this once, she missed out on the real fun? I mean - c'mon! What's more fun than judging people?

Why else do we love Fug? And really - who watches awards shows for the entertainment value? Unless, of course, it's the entertainment value of picking apart what the celebrities are wearing (or aren't wearing, as is usually the case).

And celebrity watching is only HALF the fun! Hello, can we say "Wal-Mart"?!? One need only sit in the parking lot for a few minutes watching the other customers enter & leave this fine establishment to feel better about oneself. My most prevalent thought when walking in or around any given Wal-Mart is, "man, I want her mirror". You know the type - Molly McGoesNowhere, wearing some god-awful outfit, usually consisting of some version of t-shirt knit fabric stretched tightly across areas it inadequately covers, paired with pants in a similar material or - even better - pajama bottoms & fuzzy slippers.

Now, my sister would take me to task on this practice of being judgmental. In fact, she called me on it just the other day when I remarked on the woman I saw in Burger King - who I wasn't so much judging as wondering about aloud (Picture it - middle aged woman, roughly late 40's/early 50's (probably younger, but looked older), long, dark hair, black knit jumpsuit (yes - I said jumpsuit), over which she wore black ankle boot-like shoes. This in itself wasn't bad. However, she also wore black knee socks, which she pulled up over the pant legs in order to make it appear as though she were wearing actual boots. Then there was the black suede bolero jacket - again, not so bad - but over THAT was a red suede bolero-like thing with long fringe hanging from conchas - and the look was topped off with a Ducks Unlimited camo panama hat. It was . . . special). My sister's take on it was, "y'know, she was probably really proud that she'd found something good at the Goodwill." And she's probably right. But still - you can't tell me that wouldn't make you feel a LITTLE bit better about yourself . . . well, you could tell me, but that doesn't mean I'll believe you.

Now trust me - I am no fashion plate. I am not above buying clothes at Wal-Mart occasionally - nor am I too good to take used clothing from someone who wants to give it to me, for whatever reason. Hey, ya grow up poor, you can't afford to be proud. But this whole judgmental thing really has nothing to do with where your clothes are from as much as how you put them together. You could have bought your entire ensemble from Goodwill, for all I know - but if it's clean & well combined, nobody would ever know (trust me - I know from whence I speak). Basically, I consider my people judging to be my own cheap form of therapy. As long as I know there are others out there who look worse than I do (in my view), my self-esteem remains somewhat intact.

This confession of shallowness brought to you by

the number 5 and the letter Q.