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Got Your Number

3/26/2013

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I was walking home with a friend yesterday when a stranger came up to me and said "You are really pretty" before continuing on his way.  It's a bit ridiculous how absurdly jovial this comment made me.  I made a ludicrous comment to my friend that I wished I had gotten a picture with said stranger to commemorate the event.
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The picture probably would have turned out to be as awkward as this one.
I'm not the type of girl that gets stopped on the street or hit on by random people by any means.  I'm well aware of how average and young I look.  This is why I'm immediately suspicious of anyone that thinks I'm attractive.  The automatic assumption is that they're either a pedophile or an asiaphile.  Or they have ulterior motives.
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When I was a kid, I always used to look forward to haircuts because I had this vision of being completely transformed by a simple swish cut of the shears.  I blame the teen movies that proliferated the 90s where an ugly duckling girl metamorphosed into a beautiful swan with a simple haircut, wardrobe change, and elimination of glasses.
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Amazing!
I was inevitably disappointed every time, because not only did the haircut do nothing to change my image...the women that cut my hair would always remark on how young I looked, further grinding in my insecurities at the time.  My sophomore year of high school, I traded in my glasses for contacts and also dyed my hair a blonde brown color.  It's funny how little that did to my appearance.  I was just...blonde.  And without glasses.  And I still looked five or so years younger than I was.

I stopped caring about how my haircuts looked after a while.  I usually tell a hairdresser to "do what you want" when they ask me how I want it done.  I always bring a hat just in case the cut turns out badly (although I've only had to use it once).  However badly it turns out, I realized long ago that other people are going to see my haircut way more than I do...so it's sort of moot.

I'm happy with the way I look.  My mom has remarked several times on what a pretty girl I'd be if only my teeth were nice.  This is somewhat true.  But I can't help being content with how uncharmingly crooked my teeth are merely because they're a part of who I am.  I should probably smile a bit smaller or laugh a little less to hide them away, but I can't help being as happy as I am in life.  Oh well.

I mentioned in a previous post that I was glad I wasn't ridiculously good-looking because I'd probably be extremely vain.  I think this is true.  I'm not so horrendous to behold that people burst into tears when they see my face.  But I'm not particularly attractive.  If I was, I know I'd waste too much time checking myself out in the mirror.  I'd get extremely big in the head while postulating how beautiful I was.
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I'd be really really conceited.

I'd probably also get extremely tired of guys hitting on me or people telling me how attractive I was.  Every time I heard it, I'd be like "I know I am!"  I might get sick of guys asking me out on dates.  I might even spout long rants about how tired I was of guys asking me out without getting to know me and just basing their attraction on appearances.

But as it is, I don't feel that way at all.  So on the rare occasion it does happen (like yesterday), I am actually incredibly flattered.  Which is a definite plus to having looks that are on the average scale of things.

So random stranger from yesterday, I salute you.  Thanks!
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    tisburelaine.

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