Just Your Luck

My stomach makes rolls when I sit–three to be exact. Every time I manage to clear up my face, new pimples appear. My hair is either tangled or frizzy (mostly both, but never neither). My teeth are not white. I nearly failed my first semester of college. My thighs are always touching, and I’ll admit, sometimes, (okay or maybe always) I put on way too much mascara.

I had a boyfriend once (he was the best friend I secretly (or not so secretly) crushed on for two years before he decided to like me back (perfect right? (It wasn’t, but another story))) and while we were in the phase before we were official, I often would find myself thinking “wow I am so lucky to have him”.

To have him.

I was so lucky.

That is what I thought.

That he was a stroke of pure luck (and gee I seriously hope I don’t screw this up because I am so lucky).

I’m not sure if it sounds pathetic to you (it does to me), but really, I tried to make sure I stayed the way I was (or maybe I could lose a pound here or there, you know so he can like me more (or maybe I could not say that because I know it gets him upset when I do (or maybe I shouldn’t tell anyone because he doesn’t want anyone to know we are…together(or maybe or maybe or maybe or maybe)))) to make sure I didn’t let him loose. Because it was a ticking time-bomb. Surely there was no way in reality that he could like me back right? It was dumb luck.

And how sad (I now realize) was that. That I could only get a person to like me if I was lucky. Because I thought so lowly of myself!! (Isn’t that sad????!) I put him on this high pedestal I couldn’t seem to reach. And I look back and feel sorry for not realizing it sooner.

He was lucky to have me too.

That may or may not make me sound uber conceited but isn’t it true? There’s no one like me! He was a lucky guy! But that wasn’t the way I thought. And really it’s still not exactly the way I think. Sometimes I really have to convince myself. That yeah okay so maybe I’m not what the world shows as perfect (okay I’m far from it, I would likely never make People’s top 100 list) . And maybe that one guy on Facebook did rate me pretty low. And maybe my jean size is higher than any AP test score. And maybe I do walk around with popcorn in my hair sometimes, but if I knew me I would know I was lucky.

And I think that’s where people go wrong. When they think the world of someone and nothing of themselves. (And I definitely don’t mean to get all preachy but I was just thinking about it and everyone I know is asleep so who am I supposed to tell? (And what do you know that I hadn’t posted in my blog today (or yesterday)))

And I think I could wish that I could be my old best friend (who I will not name cause that’s just mean) who has a line of boys at her feet and a teeny tiny little body (and gets 100 likes on a stupid selfie on Instagram), but why would i? The only person I know who is funnier than me is Steve Carrell and I think I’d rather be second in line to funny than to have 100 boys in line (cause I mean come on, while those boys are waiting in line for her, I’m making really funny jokes that they’re missing out on). And this isn’t really about how many boys like me because I don’t really care about boys liking me anymore (because hello I am hilarious) and I’m just trying to get a point across.

I am awesome (despite the fact that i am always the first to laugh at my own jokes, and how sometimes i slurp too loud when I eat spaghetti)! People are lucky to know me (and you can go back and tell your mom that!).

I’ve tried every diet and failed (like a numerous amount of times). I pop my pimples even when the dermatologists tells me I will get more (I do end up getting more.) I once sprayed lightener in my hair( like a whole bottle (even though the instructions said not to (and my hair turned orange))). And I tried to be quiet and mysterious (so as not to draw attention to myself and embarrass anyone).
I tried and I tried and I tried before I realized.

There was no problem.

I wasn’t broken! I wasn’t just lucky! I was awesome and he was the one who had a quick pick of luck and landed me.

My hair is thick and puffy and just a little damaged. I laugh sometimes at things you won’t find funny. I sing a little too often and a little too loud. My idea of a fun Saturday night is watching Hallmark movies with my dad. The bags under my eyes are permanent. I eat chips and ice cream fearlessly (that’s how I got my stomach rolls). And yeah, you’re really lucky to know me!!!!

(That boy broke up with me, so jokes on him, right?)

If you just read this, well good, just your luck!


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