The TV girl said, "You..." The bag lady asked, "What did she say?!" The TV girl replied, "I don't want her to repeat it. Just pretend you didn't hear it."
Growing up, there have always been all sorts of people around me. Because I'm not naturally close to men, women have become my "anthropological research subjects."
The bag lady isn't very educated, hasn't read many books, but her house is always spotless and tidy. She's the kind of woman who would place a doll or flowers next to the TV. Her large bookshelf is filled with French learning books, like "300 Authentic French Conversations" and so on. The few readable books are actually her fiancé's professional books - like "100 Must-Visit Places in Europe," as her fiancé is a Chinese tour guide in Paris. There's half a row of books left - what are they? They're all the ELLE and Vogue magazines she has ever read. I was quite surprised; after reading these, wouldn't you just use them to pad hot food and be done with it? Why keep them? It was hard to find a novel full of words - "Angels & Demons" - which I had lent her. In order to add some "literary" books to her home, I left this book at her place for nearly a year without taking it back. Although Nawel doesn't consider "Angels & Demons" a literary book, I said that for a woman who casually glances at subtitles while watching TV and considers herself a young artist, a wordy "Angels & Demons" and a cultural version of 007 Professor Langdon should count as literature.
The reason the bag lady is called the bag lady is because she collects countless brand-name bags, all hidden in a wardrobe similar to mine. Gucci bag - as an attractive woman, sometimes I think if I had so many bags, I wouldn't know where to put them. My wardrobe is already stuffed with my own clothes, and the suitcases beside it are helping out. The bag lady's dressing philosophy is: wear etam, zara, mango, H&M from head to toe, but carry a bag worth over 500 euros, because only then can one's quality be seen. But from the first day I met her, the younger brother kept telling me: "Wow, how does that person carry a fake designer bag every day?" I patiently explained to him every day, "She carries real ones, don't say such things." The younger brother said, "Ah? Where does she get the money?" I said, "From her fiancé," which shocked him. Since then, the younger brother has started arranging for me to meet men online. Of course, that's another story. Actually, her dressing philosophy is consistent with many of my classmates in junior high school who have attached themselves to second-generation rich guys, so I didn't feel surprised at all. The bag lady likes to criticize my dressing style, thinking it's very disharmonious and strange. Today, when I went to school and saw the bag lady appear before me in a sequined outfit, I almost burst out laughing. So I tilted my head way up, almost parallel to the ceiling. I know that animalistic women always despise socially strong women. Sometimes I think she's quite interesting. On one hand, she will scold loudly in public if her fiancé hangs up the phone due to poor subway signals, but on the other hand, she will endure his infidelity. I began to understand, actually this type of woman is very smart. Maybe occasionally they'll throw tantrums, but they will never leave you, because leaving you means facing catastrophic consequences. She often tells me that if she breaks up with her boyfriend, she will let him leave empty-handed and leave everything else to her, including his wallet and subway card. "Warmth and desire" is exactly this principle - without "warmth," where would "desire" come from? Animalistic women always make choices most beneficial to themselves in the shortest time.
She can't understand why I always seem absent-minded, just as I can't understand why they love watching "My Own Swordsman." She always secretly tells the TV girl that she doesn't like me, thinks I'm weird, and hopes I can change. She also earnestly educates me, letting me live like her, such as tidying up the house and leading a regular life every day, otherwise, even if I find a boyfriend in the future, he will still leave me because he can't bear it. At that moment, I really wanted to tell her that I've never felt devastated by any man leaving my life. I have my parents to rely on, losing a man is like losing a piece of clothing. She also educates me, saying that shoes are the most important part of the whole outfit. My shoes are ugly and tasteless. I always laugh secretly because those two pairs of shoes were praised by New York jazz musicians and Japanese former parliamentary stenographers. She also told me that it's not easy for someone in their twenties to look thirty years old in photos. Well, it is indeed not easy.
Taking notes during class, looking at the projection, occasionally glancing at the bag lady's side face, she isn't that hateful. It's just that my "natural superiority" always irritates her.
The TV girl is also an interesting girl, a peace-loving good person. But she doesn't have the strong animal instincts of the bag lady. Perhaps her social nature still occupies a large part, so she leads a relatively tough life, working part-time at a spa shop every day. However, recently because she's working full-time, her income is decent, and she's living pretty comfortably. The reason the TV girl is called the TV girl is due to the previous Darty incident, so I call her the TV girl. She always envies the bag lady for being supported by someone and living comfortably, but each time after envying her, she wakes up and says, "Even if I were her, I couldn't clean the house as neatly as she does." She always complains that my house is messy, well, my house is indeed messy, but hers is dirty... because she has two cats. The TV girl is easy to get along with, a typical Cancer girl, very maternal, likes to take care of others, like me. When I'm with her, I often feel a warmth like a mother's. I remember once I was late for class, and the department director wouldn't let me into the classroom, so I ran outside to buy bread to eat. The TV girl sent me a text message asking what I was doing. I said I was eating breakfast, and she said, "Don't just eat, remember to buy a bottle of water from the supermarket, don't stay dry." If she hadn't reminded me, I probably wouldn't have thought of buying water. At that moment, I still felt her warmth. The TV girl says I'm like a child, always needing someone to take care of me, and the bag lady also thinks so. I always laugh, the same adjective, but between the TV girl and the bag lady, the gap is ten thousand miles apart. Every time I sleep at the TV girl's house, I look at the computer screen with those complicated characters, somewhat dazed, and the next morning when I wake up groggy, she even helps me button up, and I never say thank you because I feel this behavior is too much like my mom.
The TV girl actually has a lot of ideas, but because her ambition isn't great, she always leads a very relaxed life. She always says she hopes to have a boyfriend who truly understands and tolerates her, because her ex-boyfriend was a white ram male who liked to complain. She often says I'm like her ex-boyfriend. I say, "So now you transfer your feelings and like me, right?" Ha ha. She loves small animals, especially cats. She likes all cat-patterned accessories, clothes, bags, etc. She doesn't have a big brand obsession, hoping to live a simple and sunny life, not wanting to find a super-rich man. She only hopes to find a man who can lead a plain life. She always asks me why I daydream so much, like I'm soulless. I say, "Go discuss this with the bag lady." She always thinks the bag lady is very feminine, a real woman. Every time, I smile and think, "You haven't seen a truly feminine woman." The TV girl actually has quite standard features, but because she's a little overweight, it hides her perfect chin. I always tell her to lose weight, and slim down, everything will be perfect. She's like Bee, thinking "losing weight" is like climbing to heaven. I always tell her, "If you're as lazy as me about cooking, you'll lose weight," and she always doesn't believe me. She always thinks I'm a rare artistic young woman in her life, often making shocking statements, finding me very interesting and childish. I always explain to her, "This isn't called an artistic young woman,晕死了, just slightly more cultured than you and the bag lady." She's always worried about me, always thinking I'll be deceived by the men around me. I always tell her in an old-woman-like manner, "A person who has eaten crabs and a person who has only seen crabs are different. I'm not stupid."
The photography girl is the TV girl's roommate, and the TV girl hates her to the bone. The photography girl is the one who took my birthday pictures. She's also a remarkable person. According to the TV girl's words, she looks like a yellow-faced hag, but every time she goes out to see an exhibition, she dresses up completely renewed, completely unlike the shrew standing in the kitchen yelling at her boyfriend earlier, Gucci Canvas. She's been in France for not long, still studying language, and is an amateur photographer. (Anyway, I call everyone with a DSLR camera an amateur photographer.) You can see that she's an ambitious woman, hoping to make a name for herself in photography, so she used me as a target that day. She always appears angelic in front of strangers or friends, like me. She didn't know that when she was cursing at her boyfriend, I was actually hiding in a corner of their house, so she said to me, "I never curse at my boyfriend, he works very hard." At that moment, I almost fell over on the gravel road, then smiled sarcastically and said, "Oh, you're really good." The TV girl hates her, probably thinking she's too hypocritical, acting one way in front of people and another behind their backs, being very fierce at home, often neglecting public hygiene, using a lot of water and electricity at home, and frequently arguing with her boyfriend, making her headaches, and causing a huge commotion over trivial matters. I think that actually hypocritical people also have a hard life. If she were truly a mean person and accepted that fact, she wouldn't try to hide it. I always think that hypocritical people are just unable to accept their true selves, so they pretend to be good on the surface to satisfy their longing for "goodness." After all, being good requires talent, and so does being bad. The photography girl is a smart woman, knowing where she's not beautiful and where she needs to highlight. She always dresses in a way that leaves me speechless. I think she's really not bad, as long as you don't live with her or become her boyfriend.
The above are the women I encounter every day, and they're always very interesting.