Little Miss Approachable

I am not a knock out.  In typical social situations I am called cute.  Not the kind of cute reserved for children's shirts with kittens on them, but "pretty" cute.  I look my age to peers but to elders I'm "around 21?"  I'm just short of 5'3" with a sporty, petite build.  I have straight teeth courtesy of adolescent braces and my dad has called me "freckle nose" as long as I can remember, but I like to think I've grown up nicely.  I haven't dyed my hair in five years but believe that being a bottle blonde in high school helped me come out of my shell.  I don't wear too much makeup because I honestly don't know how.  I firmly believe too much makeup should be reserved for events like photos shoots and open casket funerals.

When having a good time out I am approachable to the point of flaw and overly accepting of your lame elevator pitch, as long as you're not an asshole.  I might even laugh at your awful pick up line, depending on how many drinks are in me.  I believe people are inherently good, which makes being a bitch very hard and disabling for me.  In a past life, I was the girl some guy would take home to screw only to be the one who played Guitar Hero with him and his roommates until I sobered up enough to drive home.  Go to bed alone, sucker.  At times I was trusting to the point of, "I am so glad I didn't die last night" at Rome's Termini train station at 7 a.m.  (THAT is a good story.  Another time.  Sorry Dad.)

A defining moment.  My junior year, on college spring break, my girl friends and I hung out with a small group of guys at their condo.  When I mentioned something risque I read in Cosmopolitan one of the guys, 28, beautiful and broad looked at me and flat out said, "you're smarter than that."  We spent the next few hours talking about European travel.  Brian, wherever you are, God bless you.

While reading My Horizontal Life by Chelsea Handler I though of how fun it would be to write my own memoir, minus the promiscuous sex.  I could never bring myself to sleep with a midget anyway.

I'm not old fashioned but I appreciate elements of traditional dating.  Sorry, but my friendliness is sometimes mistaken for flirting.  I gave up playing with emotions a long time ago because that doesn't comfort anyone.  I hate failure, especially when someone's feelings are up for grabs.  For a little while I whined about the inability to find myself a match, sung to the tune of Queen's "Find Me Somebody to Love."

So now I'm kind of in this new chapter in my life and, no lies, I'm nervous.  But I'm not singing Queen anymore.

"I'm okay, I'm alright."