I feel pretty

There are just some nights when you have the confidence. Tonight, I went out with Mary, Cindy, Rhiannon and Ruth to Frog & Peach. As usual, I was disgusted by all the Poly Dollies (Cal Poly chicks who dress up like whores to go out.) Me, I was in a T-shirt, flip-flops and my lucky hat, which I’ve had since high school. Anyway, I’m looking at all the girls in tube tops and heels, and I come to a realization – I do not feel the least bit insecure about going out just as I am, and I sort of feel sorry for these girls. Not that I am opposed to dressing up, but what kind of insecurity level must you have to spend two hours getting ready just to get a beer at F&P on a Tuesday?

I think all the the insecurity around me was making me extremely confident, or maybe I was just comfortable in my own skin. At any rate, I struck up a conversation with a cute guy, and while he was too young for me, he was still nice. I was flashing grins at guys to let me past the crowded innards of the bar. And strangely enough, I felt eyes on me in recognition. I still haven’t quite deciphered what it all means, but thank the Jesus I am secure in who I am.

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