Thursday, August 26, 2004

A Post On Girls

The one time I ever got really, really drunk was for my 20th birthday while I was in London. I didn't actually intend to get drunk, but people kept buying me drinks and, well, I just wasn't very good at saying no. In any case, I remember thinking when I walked in that there were a fair number of very pretty girls, and also a very large contingent of, well, "not-so-pretty" girls. After about 17 drinks (I somehow remembered everything I'd had and calculated that it was about 17) in three hours, I looked around and it occurred to me that every single girl in the bar was very attractive. I thought that the odds of all the ugly girls having suddenly disappeared were fairly remote, and that it furthermore occurred to me that several of the girls I'd noticed as being especially bad-looking somehow seemed awfully pretty at present. It was at that point that I decided that I'd had way too much to drink, and that it was time to leave (alone! at all costs!).

Well, I had a somewhat similar experience upon returning to campus. Shockingly, nearly every girl I saw looked, well, great (no, I hadn't been drinking). This has been, to say the least, disconcerting. You see, I've had a fairly decent set-up going in my mind for a long while, and I thought it was working fairly well. Basically, there'd be some extremely pretty girls I'd see, some who were, well, not, and plenty in-between (though, when I think about it, my female friends trend towards the "pretty" side of the spectrum; maybe they ate their vegetables and drank their milk as children). In other words, things were about as you might expect them to be. In return, I generally gave myself a "B" in looks, considering myself slightly above average but no all-star. This was safe and comfortable, and I have to admit that it was good having that. But now, that's changed. I'd sit down in a class, and I'd end up talking with some very nice and pretty girl next to me. My head is seriously being messed-with. I mean, I still give myself a solid "B," but I no longer have the comfort that I had before. Maybe it's because I attended several weddings this summer of people about my age. It's not really a feeling of "man, I'd love to date her...and her...and her...and..." but rather one of "okay, this is starting to freak me out big-time."

So I don't know what to do. One thought is to bury my head in a pillow for most of the day and only come out at night, kind of like Dracula, but without the blood-sucking (and you can keep all the jokes about being the son of two lawyers to yourselves, thankyouverymuch). Another option is to go make a fool of myself, which I don't think I'll do, either. I'm thinking that the best option is to wait, get the subject of Girls out of my head entirely for a little bit, and once I return to my senses, see what I see. Sheesh!

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