Who Wants to be a Model?

Like all young girls, when I was young, I dreamed of one day becoming a model.  I wanted to be famous, and I wanted people to do my make-up and hair.  I wanted to be near a flash at all times.  But as I was growing up, I was always so smart, and so committed.  I didn’t want to be smart and/or committed.  I wanted to be pretty.

These days, I’m glad to be smart and committed, and I’m glad to have a boyfriend who thinks I’m pretty.  But that one dream never went away.  I want to be a model.  I watch shows like “America’s Next Top Model” and think, “It doesn’t look that hard.  The worst thing about it is the other girls attacking you.  I can handle the other girls (I did, afterall, grow up in Hulett…).”

I don’t have blonde hair.  I’m not tall and shapely.  I do, however, have very pretty eyes.  And expressive lips.  Other than that, there’s not much about me that screams “MODEL!”.  Well, I am very thin.  But, I’m not the girl who gets admiring looks when I walk into a room.  No one seeks me out to tell me I’m gorgeous (besides Kyle, and that’s his job).  The only looks I get are when I walk out in a bikini, and most people are probably thinking, “Pale!  Thin!”, or when I was “punk”; black eyeliner, black shadow, super short hair, black clothes, and gauges in my ears tend to draw eyes.

But, dang it!  I still want to be a model.

(I also want hemp sandals…)


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