Business and Pleasure

First item*:

And finally;

I wish I was pretty. No, not pretty. I want to be stunningly gorgeous. Because maybe it's just an illusion, but life seems to be easier for pretty faces. All I want is an even playing field.  Is it really too much to ask?

I wish boys would watch me from afar. I want them to wish they could work up the courage to walk up and say hello. I want people to think I'm shallow, and be shocked to find out I'm actually worth something. I want to rely on my looks when nothing else seems to be working. I want to be the one that got away. The first love. The one that could have been.
I'm so sick of being the mistake. Maybe once he would love me instead of her, if I were breathtaking.
I think, if I was pretty, they would spell my name right in the yearbook**.


Am I rambling?
Good.

Because I think I said that wrong. I don't want to be pretty. I wish people would try to see me. 
Get over my overbite and my frizzy hair.
Spend the Summer in the park with me.
Close your eyes, pretend that I'm pretty.
Forget that I sometimes snort when I laugh, and for once stop falling for my friends.
We can go on pick nicks.
We can drive with the windows down, the music blaring.
We can jump in lakes with our clothes on.
We can sneak out, if you want.
We can just live.
Trust me, I know what I'm doing.***

Give me one real chance. 

Let me show you how stunning I can be.

*Uh ok. How good does Gatsby look? I mean I wish Leo was still 17, but hey, beggars can't be choosers.


**Emily Howell? Really?
pg.139


***I mean, I've seen The Notebook.