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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  1. Before everyone jumps in and tells you how you’re pretty like a Christmas tree with long, blond hair; I would just like to point something out. If movies have taught us anything its that pretty young girls seem to have it made until they are no longer young and their looks begin to fade. After that, they will need to rely on their personalities. I forgot exactly how the rest of thing is supposed to go but it ends the disappointing 1996 movie rendition of The First Wives Club.

  2. I’d have to say that you are much more beautiful than the blond. She was way too thin and probably does not eat healthy, if at all, or when she does it probably ends up in the toilet 30 minutes later. Not only that, but she had way too much perfume on and it was almost repelling. It was also bothering me that she was drinking wine the entire time. That is all for now. I have more to add later but there is dinner to be had.

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