Intimidation by Pretty

I'm pretty; it's fact, not vanity. Even before I became vain about it, it was the unspoken reality that I was "the pretty one." There's a certain power in being pretty, and it's not just  getting free drinks at the bar or getting your way all the time.

Within the world of female politics there are intricacies of social dance and appearance plays a larger role than we let on. Tomorrow night (or, since I'm writing this at 3:20am, tonight) I am supposed to go on a double date with John and his cousin and his cousin's new girlfriend. Despite the fact that my depression has been in a downward spiral and I've been stressed and headachy, I will be there, and I will turn it out. Despite being secure in my relationship and in no way wanting his cousin, I need to make sure I am the best looking female on this date, even though we will be, for a majority of the time, in a dark theatre.

So why will I beat my face to sit in a dark theatre? Intimidation. Ever since I became fully aware of my prettiness, I have used that fact to intimidate other women in an utter unabashed display of feminine superiority and dominance. I used to come to work in full makeup to a gas station job when a new female employee was starting on her first day, just so she knew her place. So I'll spend tomorrow making myself pretty so the other girl knows I mean business.

Don't be jealous of my boogie.