Hmmm...she could be kinda pretty

I woke up this morning with the oddest recollection of one time when I felt like utter shit, like a huge horse man took a huge shit on my self-esteem kind of feeling. I didn't go out drinking or anything. Didn't go out and get into a cat fight. I stayed in, watched some TV then went to bed. But I woke thinking about this one time in Australia when I did in fact get drunk then felt pathetic and found it necessary to Skype my friend Katie and vent to her about my insecurities. As I type this, I have this disgusted look on my face just thinking about it. Why did I act like that?


But you have to admit, after you read what happenesthen you'll probably be like "Awww...OMG, NO WAY!" Or if you're a guy then you'll probably be like, "Shit...that sucks, man." Or if you just think I'm pathetic, you'll probably say, "Seriously? Really? Really!"

But the night went like this. It was Libby's 21st birthday and we ended the night at the Orient. A lot of us were pretty tipsy and the birthday girl probably already forgot her name (which is what her plan was to begin with - "I don't wanna remember my name tonight!"). One of the usual bartenders, a good-looking guy who clearly knew he was good-looking until he opened his mouth and you can see a gap wide enough for a fat woman to walk through* was working that night.
*I shouldn't be talking because I, too, have a slight gap in between my teeth but my mom says it's lucky. All I wanna do is laugh in her face when she tells me that but she's my mom and she's supposed to say things like that to me. "Look at Madonna! She has a gap and she's famous!" I guess she has a point.

I was with the biffle nug and to summarize her looks, I'll just say she gets meat-tagged. A term we use when we get eye fucked. I say "we" because I, too, get meat-tagged :) The bartender made us some drinks, kind of talked to us but mainly talked to the BN. I wasn't too surprised by this considering it usually happens a lot when we go out together. We hung out with friends, danced, joked around and took embarrassing and ridiculous pictures of ourselves and our friends, including the birthday girl.

From what I recall, he took shots with the BN while I clearly was standing right there. Thanks, guy. I went over to my other friends and hung out for a bit. I figured there's no point of me hovering over a bar if I'm not drinking at the moment or need a drink. And also, I don't wanna have to just be "that girl" standing there while her friend gets hit on. I felt like a dog waiting for it's owner. Eck! I came and went, floating around like a social butterfly. She told me, "Don't get mad, don't get mad. I didn't know he was giving it to me for free..." But I assured her I wasn't and too be honest I had no reason to be mad at her anyways. He was the one being rude.

It was last call and the bartenders were serving people one last time. In my stupor I begged the prick to pour us 2 squashed frogs (an Aussie shot, don't ask). He quickly made them and to my surprise he didn't charge me but I tipped him because I was drunk and stupid. The tip was basically the price for both of them. Ugh! We took our shots then he came back over. He put his cell phone on the bar, with his address book on the screen. The phone was placed directly in the center of us so I assumed (because again, I was drunk and stupid) that he wanted us both to put our numbers in there. I take my stupid drunk index finger about to punch in some digits, when he slaps my hand away and takes the BN's hand and puts it on the dial pad to put her number in. Without hesitation and without words, I left the bar out the door with the rest of the regulars. This huge heavy feeling in chest came over me. I didn't cry or anything (at least not at the moment) but I usually get that heavy feeling in my chest when I feel...shattered almost. My friends were outside toasting to Libby's 21st and we headed to the beach. At this point I didn't care what happened to the BN. I walked with my two friends Mary and Joel toward the beach while everyone else sang and skipped and ran toward the sand. They clearly saw how upset I was and I told them what happened. We were all kind of tipsy but they assured me that the bartender was a dick and he clearly saw how obliterated the BN was and thought maybe he could get some. I don't know if those were the specific words but something along those lines was said. They did their best to cheer me up and we all went to the beach to see the birthday girl skinny dip in the ocean...and that creepy regular who resembles Cousin It joined her....

Beautiful

When we came back to the house, I quickly got on Skype, saw that my friend Katie was online and immediately dialed her. She clearly saw I was crying and quite drunk. I told her what happened and she did what all great friends do: assured me that I was beautiful. Of course at the time I wasn't thinking positively about myself. What had happened was basically a dude judging me on looks alone and I let his actions affect me when they shouldn't have. After I got myself together, finished chatting with my lovely friend, I hear a knock on the door. It was Joel :) He gave a big hug and reassured me that I had nothing to worry about and the bartender was a douche. And then he said, "Your girl is in the bathroom."

LOLZ

I tended to my beautiful, obliterated best friend, who slept in my bed while I took the floor. I am SUCH a good friend, eh? I had a great picture of her but alas, I will refrain from using such blackmail on here.

The moral of the story is this, I let what some stupid, shallow guy be the judge of my looks and my beauty when in fact, I'm the only person who can make myself feel that way. My OWN attitude toward myself is what essentially projects how others see me. And if I think I'm beautiful then I probably am because the toughest critics of our own selves is...um...our own selves!

I'm a good-looking chick and it's not just because of my exotic features and my exotic hair and my olive skin and all that shit. I'm good-looking because I'm charming, I'm funny, I'm a good friend. I'm loving and affectionate and I care deeply about my friends and my family. I have goals and I'm intelligent. My brain is goddamn sexy for knowing an array of different things. I'm pretty good at reading certain people, I'm witty and can make the most depressed people see light in dark situations. I'm understanding and non-judgmental. But of course, I have my flaws too. I have physical flaws - I'm not a size 2, and I'm not a girl that all the guys wanna fuck. I don't have perky breasts and I have a bunion on my left foot. I can't eat whatever I want without having to pay for it on the scale. I have to work out twice as hard as skinny bitches who can devour a plate of nachos before eating a cheeseburger and still look like they're 50 pounds. I also have flaws with my personality. I curse like a sailor, I'm boisterous at times and I act like a child. I'm indecisive and I over think certain things. And yeah, I might be stubborn but I know when to apologize when I'm wrong. In fact, if the biffle nug and I ever get into shouting matches, I know when to apologize and it's usually a few minutes after the bout rather than after a few days of not talking to each other like I would do years ago. I've grown up and I'm still working on it. I'm a work in progress and my insecurities will not make my problems go away. So, there's no point of having any, right? Over time, I won't have any and everyone will see or continue to see that I look like a million bucks :)

mmmmwah!

And for the record, the prick got his teeth fixed. One night when he wasn't working, he came in with his cool leather jacket to hang out with his friends. He made sure he grinned from ear to ear to show off his nice set of choppers. I still think he's a prick.