One day about a year or so ago, I was sitting in a New York pizza parlor with my dear friend Chesty LaRue. We were dining on slices of wonderfully greasy extra cheese pizza discussing who knows what. Over the course of our seven year friendship I can remember a good number of our conversations. I might have remembered the one in the pizza parlor that day had I not been distracted by my reflection in the mirrors that lined the restaurant's walls. Like Narciciss I had fallen in love with my reflection. And honestly, I can't blame myself cause I'm freaking HOT!!
Some might call me vain, and in all honesty they're right, I am. But I've earned the right to be vain. You see that picture of me in my profile? Stunning, right? Well, as hard as this is to believe, I wasn't always such a looker. In fact up until a steady turn around starting in '98, I was the definition of plain, awkward, and unmemorable. When braces are an improvement over the original packaging that's the first clue you're not in the running for the title of Best Looking in the Senior Superlatives yearbook section. I didn't have a nose job, nor did I have any major reconstructive surgery since high school. The basic palette is still the same. So how come it looks so much better now than it did then? Let me tell you, knowledge is power. If I knew then, what I know now, I could've been hot in high school.
In high school I wasn't ugly per say. I was definitely much better looking than the girls who rode the short bus to school and had all their classes in one room. However, to my dismay at the time, I wasn't considered hot. When dudes would sit around naming off all the girls they'd like to spend the five minutes before their premature ejaculation with, my name never made the list. The girls that were most coveted had something going for them that I just didn't. They were short, compact, and wore cute clothes. I, on the other hand, was an emaciated beanpole, with gangly limbs that I had absolutely no control over, and was relegated to wearing men's clothing or highwaters all the time. My hair, which I had yet to embrace in all it's nappy glory, was an odd combination of frizzy roots and sleek ends and spent most days in a careless ponytail. Now 7 years later, with a much needed 20 (or more) well placed (or not so well placed at times) pounds on my frame, the advent of extra long women jeans, and some personal grooming advice from Chesty, I'm a dime. Honestly if I decided to wax on a regular basis, I could completely get a starring role in somebody's music video (hey Nelly, if you're reading this...call me).
I don't understand why this transformation couldn't have happened when I was 14. This is sort of hard to admit, but I wasn't exactly popular in high school. Now I wasn't a complete and total dweeb cause there were plenty of people on the popularity food chain much lower than I. I did my duty and showered as much scorn and ridicule upon them as I saw fit on a daily basis. But I was NEVER the "IT" girl that I dreamed of being. I think that if me today went back to high school, my name would definitely be on the boys locker room wall. It's just not fair. I'm not gonna lie and say that I don't enjoy being hot in the here and now. But it would've been great to look this way then too. Honestly, high school is really the only time when popularity matters. In the real world, there's really not a concentrated pool of people who watch your every move and covet your status. You just sort of blend in with the crowd. And college popularity doesn't count either. Campus is too big...it's one thing to be adored within a certain set of people (The Negroes, The Salsa Dancers, Young Republicans, Future MILFs), but it's virtually impossible for that adoration to spread to the masses. So high school is really the only opportunity and once it's passed, it's over.
In case you're wondering, I'm not bitter over this whole situation. You wanna know why? Cause I've recently run into a few of those "It" girls from way back when. Let me tell ya, whatever it was they had in high school, they've definitely lost "It" now. A lot of them never left our small town and moved in to crappy apartments two blocks from their parents and raise two or three snot nose kids (who have two or three snot nose daddies) on tips earned at Big Hal's Diner. Those short, compact cuties are now short wide bodied models of their former selves. They've even fallen victim to that half mullet half Farrah Fawcett winged hairdo that's so popular amongst trailer park bunnies and WalMart employees. In a head to head comparison I look better, dress better, and live better than them. Go ME!! When I look at them (while laughing, snickering, and pointing) I don't feel so bad about being a late bloomer. Cause I mean really, it's sort of sad to peak at 18.