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too curly

8 Dec

Spent an hour getting ready for Hot Fiance’s company Christmas party. Still didn’t feel pretty or interesting or any of the things one should be where there are people and free drinks and food. I thought about this, about sitting on the floor in my bedroom minutes before midnight to write about how awful it felt to be boring, to be afraid, even, of moving. I thought about how I’d write of how I tried to be sociable, to be normal, and how miserably I failed and hope I was only being so narcissistic and vain that no one actually noticed. I thought about writing of the girls at our table and how they were all pretty and confident, how my hair was curled and theirs were not, and how that made me feel babyish and just, ugh, just ugh. On top of the curls were two small braids tied together to form a very stupid and girlish crown that I don’t even want to think about. I thought about comparing tonight to my senior prom held in that same ballroom eight years ago, how I was prom queen, how my dress was too pink and too strapless, how my hair was too curly, how I didn’t get to ride in the Hummer limo with my friends because I had queen things to do with my prom king date, how I went to the bathroom after I was officially crowned to pull off the fake eyelashes I didn’t want in the first place. Thought about how this means when I thought I could go back to high school and pull it off like a cool kid, I was probably wrong, probably haven’t done much growing up. Ugh.

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