Thoughts

Late Night Musings of the Vain Variety. You May Ignore Me. :)

Just a pre-warning: this post is written by the me who is absolutely and completely GIRL, aka swooning (slightly) over cute guys and vainly musing on my own attractiveness. Also, I’m tired. So don’t take me too seriously right now. I’m… rambling. Yeah.

Bored, awake, and going through pictures to organize them/also musing on the… hmmm… vain wonderings of how pretty I’d have to be to marry a hot guy. Yeah… it’s… I’m weird and vain sometimes. But I’ve always noticed that for the most part, couples are generally on the same level of beauty- if the girl is gorgeous, the guy is gorgeous. If the girl is cute, the guy is cute. If… sometimes they’re just both ugly. It’s like there’s some sort of unspoken rule that this pretty goes with that pretty, but beautiful doesn’t go with semi-okay. (Not my own rule. Just something I’ve noticed)

So I’ve always wondered what “level” of beauty I am on, and what level of attractiveness my significant other will be on.

I really don’t expect much. I do consider myself to be attractive, but I don’t consider myself beautiful enough to catch a rugged and handsome dude. I expect I’ll fall in love with a so-so guy appearance wise, but on the inside he’ll have a heart of gold. I always swoon and dream of falling in love with a dashingly handsome man (what girl doesn’t?) but in real life, I don’t expect him to be particularly good-looking. (And on a random note, why are the good ones always married?)

Part of this is due to the fact that I tend to fall for guys who have the best personality and their appearance doesn’t matter as much, part of this is just… well… I don’t think THIS face:

Could catch something as lovely as this… or this… or… this. (On a side note, that last one should cut a few inches off of his hair.) (And yes, you may chime in at ANY time and say I could, and feed my obsessive and vain dreams. Thank you.) Yes, I do think I’m pretty. No, I don’t think I’m beautiful (except on very, very, VERY rare occasion), nor pretty enough to attract a guy good looking enough to marry a model if he so desired. Why would he choose me when he could have… I dunno… her?

Of course, not everyone bases attraction on looks, etc, etc… but still. Even for me, who doesn’t start finding guys attractive until I’ve seen their personality, looks have a little to do with it. Even if it’s just a presentable/cute appearance that couples with personality to create the illusion that said person is more attractive than he really is.

But if I did happen to find a dashing man,  I don’t know if I could live with being married to someone prettier than me.

Also, right now I really miss my long hair. Just… I want to have it just to play with it. I keep seeing hairstyles and thinking “Oh, I want to try that!” and then realize I no longer have the hair to do anything with. Seriously. I’ll have to grow it back one of these days. Maybe not quite THAT long, though. I’m thinking above the shoulder, just long enough to put up and have a few strands hang down.

But still short enough to be easier to maintain. I’m definitely a short hair girl. Long hair is pretty, but patience is not something I have when it comes to straightening/curling/blowdrying/whatever else women do with their hair. Funny enough, while I love playing with other peoples’ long luscious locks, when it comes to doing something with my own hair, the less I have to do, the better.

So y’know.

I think it’s time to dye my hair dark brown again. I mean, look:

Dark. Shiny. (Freakin’ PALE!)

This auburn color is fun, but ultimately, I loved my dark hair better. It made me look even paler than I am in a good way, instead of in a you-need-to-get-out-of-your-cave-once-in-a-while way. Because right now, I look like I’ve barely seen the light of day. Ever.

Which is true, but that’s not the point. (Come on. I live in Washington. One of the cloudiest places around. I can’t help it if I have to crawl back into my hole when it’s sunny because the light is so blindingly bright and foreign.)

You know, it’s blog posts like this one that make me feel incredibly self-centered. Other people write posts about their kids, their families, their jobs, the place they live, world conflicts, religious debates, important political decisions, things that affect the world… and I write about… me. And yet, after the realization that this entire blog is focused mostly on my life, I still post these things. Why?

Because I like the attention, I like getting reactions, somewhere in the past few years I started to think I was entertaining, I’m bored, I like writing, and I hope that someone out there will pay attention to me because I’m so deprived of it elsewhere in my life. Poor ignored little me.  😀

So now that I have graced you all with my beauty, wit, and charm in this very late night/early morning blog post about my face and hot men, I shall bid thee adieu, and go find something more interesting to do.

Like… sleep.

P.S. Re-reading this before I post it. I sound so incredibly… airheaded. I feel like I should excuse myself and say I’m only like this at one am in the morning. It’s (mostly) true.