The Beginning .. of the end
For as long as I can remember, I’ve always prided myself on being a funny girl. No, not a funny person, but specifically a funny girl, which apparently is a rarity and therefore even more impressive.
I used to think back to favorite compliments that I could remember receiving, and the ones that immediately came to mind were the ones that were based on the fact that I was funny or witty.. or quick. I liked that one too. What a poor naive soul I was. The fact is, I now know, that being called funny…has quite different connotations all together….
From a boy: You’re not that attractive, I in fact would never want to bang you, but I will keep you around because you’re tolerable as a person, and I could probably use you to help me with my homework, do my chores, or to hook me up with friends that happen to be much better looking than you.
From a girl: At least I can feel a little bit better about my life, knowing that its not as dysfunctional as yours.
To both, I respond… You’re welcome
If you find yourself in this position, I have to say.. it really is better to just accept the facts early on and try your best to come to terms with it. It will save you from the multitudes of embarrassing situations that you would have encountered while holding on to the notion that you’re beautiful and someone out there will love you one day for who you are “on the inside”. Get a nose job, inflate your tits, and hit the gym hunny because, in the words of my dear friend Mariah Carey, “you’re delusional”
Seeing as how I myself, spent the better part of my days in denial, I have almost two decades of material to share with you. BUT, fear not. There’s a light at the end of this tunnel of doom. At least you can find solace in the fact it didn’t happen to you!
[And lets face it. Now that we’re being honest…These weren’t the first compliments that came to mind. They were the only ones.]
SO, put down the bag of popcorn (extra butter), forget that your diet- the one that’s “starting tomorrow” – has still yet to begin for over 2 years, turn off “He’s not that Into You”, and delete any and all music from your ipod that you listened to in 9th grade circa your EMO phase. (Dashboard Confessional, Brand New, Taking Back Sunday to name a few)
At least your dreams of television stardom weren’t crushed at age 7 when you were told you had a face better suited for radio…by your mother.