I have a knack for befriending hot women. I'm not sure why this is. Perhaps I'm a closet lesbian with impeccable taste? Or maybe I'm just a masochist.
You already know about my brilliant, altruistic friend who looks like Sandra Bullock. But I have others. They don't resemble famous people, but most of them are darling and delicious. Inside AND out.
Going out in my twenties consisted primarily of guys approaching me to tell me that my friends are hot. They were afraid to talk to my friends, but nobody's intimidated by the wingwoman. Once in a while, when his BAC reached dangerously high levels and my particular friend was already spoken for that evening, a guy would lurch toward me waggling his eyebrows lasciviously and I would pounce.
As a mature thirty-something, I thought I'd made peace with the fact that I will never, ever look like Kim Kardashian, even if I had her access to mass quantities of QuickTrim, a trainer and a stylist. Besides, it's the inner beauty that matters, right? (100 out of 100 men polled agreed - but they weren't listening to the question because Megan Fox walked by.)
I have to shamefully admit that when I began blogging I was excited to connect with other bloggers - bloggers who, I assumed, were nerdy Plain Janes like me. So imagine my horror to begin connecting with sweet, intelligent bloggers who look like this:
|The other half of this face? Had BETTER look like a troll!|
Meanwhile, if you don't hear from me for a while it's because I'll be attending a Cultivate Your Inner Beauty seminar. Repeatedly.