Monday, June 7, 2010

Happy, shiny people

Have you ever met someone so cool that you thought you might explode if you entered their social stratosphere? You know, that hip guitarist who has also a graffiti artist by night and pays his rent by lettering comics? Or that flamboyant actress who hosts themed gatherings every weekend and has a marvellous wardrobe full of sequins and feathers? And their Saturday nights seem to consist of going to swish gallery openings, outrageous costume parties or some equally as hip event that you'd never knew existed?

For some reason I seem to know so many of these happy, shiny people. I swear, it's terrible for my self-esteem being friends with such gorgeous human specimens. But the loveliest thing is when I become Facebook friends with them, and *ahem stalker* look through their photographs and realise they weren't always effortlessly hip. There's always a few photos of them (lurking far, far back in time) as a chubby teen doing something incredibly dorky or epically embarrassing. I don't mean "the loveliest thing" because I'm jealous and take pleasure in knowing that they were also a loser at some point. What I'm trying to get at is that it's so refreshing and comforting to know that maybe one day I can be awesome as well.

And then every once in a while you look through someone's photos, and it's almost like they've been cool since they were in the womb. Not a single bad photo. In which point you should never talk to the person again. Or maybe rub up against them and hope some of their DNA attaches itself to you.

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