Beauty, Brains or Both

Oscar Wilde once said "It's better to be beautiful than good, but it's better to be good than ugly!"  There might still be some truth in that.

Pretty girls seem to get away with, and get their way a lot more than the less fortunate in the beauty department.  Good girls get sympathy, but is no contest for the pretty girls; they do however, have a hand up on the ugly ones.  And the same goes for guys.

Sadly I am not too good to admit that when I was younger, I always secretly wished for those pretty girls to fail miserably....when one ended up as a teen mom with a loser boyfriend, or another doubled in size and all of a sudden wasn't so pretty, or when one had been so busy being pretty, she almost failed high school and was not in any position to go to college, I would eagerly gossip about her with my friends. But that was a very short lived satisfaction.

Of course there was a time when I too wanted to be the prettiest girl at the party. Unfortunately  I don't think that ever happened, and as I get older (thirtyten by now), that seems so much less important. Oh, I still try, but I'll be happy with "there is nothing wrong with her" at this point. So what are we to do when age sets in and beauty fades? Maybe that is when we find our true selves. I say like me for who I am, my personality, my opinions, my outlook on life and how I treat others. Then we'll have something to talk about as time goes on.  Like me for my looks and we will have a very short lived relationship....there is only so much help in wrinkle creams and hair color.

It's human nature to want others to like us.  We all want to hear how great we are, but at this point, I don't want to hear about my looks.  I see myself in the mirror every day, so when I get the "oh you are so beautiful" line, obviously he's either lying, drunk or blind....and neither of those are very interesting.  But I'll take that lie over what I received last week. This guy had asked me out, but we hadn't found a time that worked for both yet. After his apparently wonderful weekend, he texted me and stated "so sorry you couldn't be there, I was horny as hell". I'm sorry? What part of me agreeing to go out dancing translated to "she wants me... all of me"? And made him think that I would find that flattering?  Needless to say, we're not going out after all.