Princess of Persia

So I met up with my sis yesterday in the city. It was cool, we grabbed some dinner, and she told me about the Persian wedding she attended. After seeing the pix, all I can say is, PERSIAN GRRLS ARE THE HOTTEST EVER. (I realize that was immature, but their hotness deserves to be shouted from the mountaintops, and in lieu of that, at least in caps on my blog !)

I'm sure it would've been a lot of fun to attend the wedding, not the least bit motivated by the fact that I'd be surrounded by these seductive vixens. There was one girl that my sister thought would be perfect for me. Here's the hype: she's a lawyer, 27, and drop-dead gorgeous. I typically apply a discount factor of 90% to such hype, that keeps expectations well in check. Then I saw her picture. Well, I have to admit, she is super-hot.

Persian women though are notoriously high maintenance, and given my predilection for work, Smallville, reading, adventuring, and more importantly independence I'm not sure we'd be a good match. I've found many Persian women require a lot of attention, and frankly, I find needy personalities pitiful and annoying.

It's wrong of me to prejudge, but she does seem like a Lana, she had that mysterious sparkle in her eye. It's ironic, even after years of dating, meeting, and avoiding Lanas, I consistently come across them. Yet, I'm not quite immune to their inherent magnetic attraction. And therein lies the catch. You are tempted, but ultimately poisoned.

So what will I do? Well I'll probably give her a call. What else am I supposed to do, wait for The One? Please.