Phwoar, seems like my stock is up this week. A second guy told me he thought I was cute and asked me out, after selling him an epilator off my Carousell page.
Why wasn’t I as fucking popular when I was a teen as I am this week? Not that I would have taken up on every suitor — god, I can only imagine to have that stamina and prowess; I’d probably still be far too lazy to be honest — but I pretty much look the same as I did in my late teens and early twenties. (I hit puberty at age 10, so that “late bloomer” rubbish doesn’t really count, does it?) Why, did someone move the yardsticks for desirability and beauty to the dirty-two-day-never-washed-hair-and-I-only-brushed-my-teeth-and-not-even-washed-my-face-or-combed-my-hair fringe area for this week?
Maybe I was simply ahead of trends — you know, natural beauty, unkempt beauty, that sort of shit — and now is my time, yo.
I am flattered, and it’s definitely gave the ego a great old boost. But honestly this doesn’t help me figure out and solve things on the romantic front. Funny how things work out.