Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Pretty girl/guy syndrome



I have a medical condition called "pretty girl syndrome". It's a real term. You can Google-izer it. Go ahead - look it up. OK, it's not a real illness but it sure feels like one. It works like this...I get all doodied up to go out on the town and I'm looking about as good as I can with what I have. I get to wherever it is I'm going, and I see friends (or even people I don't know) and there are pretty girls around. I'm instantly transformed into a blithering idiot. I feel dumpy frumpy and I can't speak to make any kind of sense. I start sounding like a donkey braying and I'm probably spitting by accident on everyone within 25 feet of me.

It's terrible, people! I'm sure that the more nervous I get, the louder I get and the stupider I get and the more I spit on people, and the more the spittle congregates in the corners of my mouth which messes up my Red Salsa lipstick and causes it to stick to my teeth which makes me look even more foolish. Oh yeah, and I fidget.

The scene gets even worse if I'm dealing with a guy that I think is good looking. There's a man that comes into my office and sometimes I have to interact with him. In my opinion, he's so dang pretty, I can hardly utter a word. I can literally feel my face turn red and get hot. I sweat and my heart beats really fast. The first 9 or 10 times I saw him, I hid from him and just looked at him from afar. He would always make a point of telling me hello as he walked past my cube and I couldn't even make eye contact and respond! Eventually I had to talk to him and it was so hard for me to do. I was afraid I'd accidentally spit on him or maybe throw up on his shoe because I was so nervous or that my overzealous sweat glands would explode and my pit stains would just transfer all the way down my sides down to the puddle that I was sure was forming on the floor.


My coworker assured me that he was really down to earth and sweet but all I saw was a beautiful hunk of eye candy that I secretly worship every time he enters the building. I'm not even sure if I made any sense when we spoke. I tried to get my point across and get away as fast as I could, before I hurt him. Or threw up. Or asked him to marry me and father 75 of my children.

It's a terrible curse to have pretty girl/guy syndrome because I know that the pretty girl or guy are normal people just like me. I know I don't look like Attila the Hun but when I get around the pretties, I feel like I do. And when I feel that way I start making embarrasing mistakes which exacerbates all of the other mistakes I make. I've tried picturing them in their underwear which didn't work. I've tried picturing them naked which backfired horribly in the case of the hunky guy at my office. I've tried pretending I was the most desirable woman in the world which didn't work. I'm out of ideas. Do you have any?

1 comment:

  1. you could try imagining them in an ugly mask or with a fat suit on. because, let's be honest, anyone has the potential to become tubby if they have just the right/wrong kind of year.
    and for the record, i think your sweaty little books look very funny in that last picture!

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