the night i met beautiful people

yes. after i fell at work saturday (see below) i did eventually make my way to the bar (note to boss: don’t fret, i totally drank straight pepsi until 12:01 a.m. fully aware of my on-call status).

i was meeting up with a friend last seen in my undergrad days at Western Illinois University (GO LEATHERNECKS!). which used be a short period of time, but gets longer every year. frick, it’s been like what? nearly four trips around the stupid sun. hot d*mn does time fly.

anywho, so i met up with this friend, whom prior to saturday night, had only communicated with me via gChat since 2005, and his girlfriend. and they were cool and normal and whatnot.

but holy hot people, the girls at our table were good looking. seriously. when the blonde walked in, i kind of thought someone had finally made my holiday barbie into a real-life person. i am not exaggerating one bit. and all of them were wearing diamonds on their left hand that i had previously assumed only existed as costume jewelry.

i spent an unhealthy amount of my time picturing what their lives must be like. with their perfect purses, their inability to take bad photos, and their year-long tans.

i could not look away.

i mean, it’s not like i was attracted to them. obviously.

no. this was different. this was me wondering what life must be like for these people, who i’ll never be friends with. and also, the odd feeling of seeing such beautiful people up close. i realized about 10 minutes in that these were the girls who ruled their respective high school dance squads, and homecoming courts and best dressed lists. THIS is what they turned out like 8 years after high school. they still had perfect lives, at least from the view i had.

i wish i had something profound to end on here. something about how, now that im older i’ve realized that looks don’t matter. or how im happy with my own life.

but instead i have a confession. a boy once asked me what i would change about the my life’s circumstances if i could choose something to alter.

“well, i wish i prettier.” i said.

still do.

my only solace is that, i would guess the girls i met Saturday night would probably give the same answer.

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