Don’t you see her?

There she is. Over there, by the chips. No, not the one with the curly red hair. No, the other girl. See her there? With the—wait, what? No! I’m not talking about the girl with the navy turtleneck. Besides, who even wears turtlenecks anymore? Although there is something very ~chic~ and laid back about the girl with the turtleneck. Gosh, will you just give me a minute to think? Don’t you see her? The girl by the chips! She’s right there, I don’t understand how you don’t see her. There’s the girl with the curly red hair, and then there’s the girl in the navy turtleneck. And then—

No! Not the girl in the mustard yellow dress. I wonder where she got that? It’s really cool actually. I like the beading around the collar. It’s very, like, ~boho~ and, like, effervescent if that makes sense? Yes, dresses can be effervescent! I mean, what do you even know about dresses anyway? Regardless, she’s not the one I’m looking at.

Hey, this is really good wine; what kind is it? It’s, like, a very fruity, dry, sweet red. What do you mean? Maybe you just don’t have the same ~sophisticated palette~ as me. I mean, what? Wines can’t be dry AND sweet? Who made that up? Then what am I tasting?

What? You’re the one who got off topic. I’m telling you I want to go over to the girl at the chips table and talk to her. Maybe we could be friends. She seems so, like, carefree and easy going. I literally don’t understand how you don’t see her. She is RIGHT THERE. No! Not the girl with the curly red hair. Not the girl in the navy turtleneck! Not the girl in the mustard yellow dress! I’m talking about the girl with the glasses! She’s wearing that rose gold frock and her hair is in a very cool high pony. The kind I could absolutely never pull off because when my hair is pulled tight at the crown of my head I look like a fat orphan. Yes I do!

Oh, did I finish this glass already? I’m telling you, I’m not usually such a wino! Sure, I’ll take another. They say red wine is good for your heart or something. So this is, like, medicinal. Anyway, I really want to go talk to that girl. She’s just, like, the epitome of cool and it seems like she’s kind of alone? Like, where are her friends? Why isn’t she talking to anyone? I mean, it seems like she’s kind of doesn’t even care, which makes her so cool. She’s just, like, there by the chips. She’s just, like, ~being~.

I want to go talk to her but I’m kind of nervous because, like, she seems so cool and elegant and I’m over here like a total fucking slob. I mean, look at me! This light orangey pink totally washes me out! And what was I thinking with this hair? It’s, like, big and floofy and yet somehow flat at the same time? How does that even happen? And GOD she looks so cool with her glasses on whereas I look like the dork of the century. I swear to God, I am so stupid for dropping my last contact in the toilet. You know a six month supply costs like $600? I totally can’t reorder right now and besides, I need an eye exam because my left eye always feels kind of wavy. But, like, my insurance doesn’t cover an exam this year which is so fucked up because you have to be able to see, am I right?

And there she is, with her glasses. Just, like, standing over there, eating chips and taking in the ambiance like a fucking model. I bet she reads only feminist literature and listens to punk rock. I bet she only wears sustainable fabrics and uses only, like, plant-based soaps and shit. I bet she’s, like, organic and yogi and everything that I’m not, like, I’m over here thinking about what pizza I’m going to get later to eat on the floor next to my bed while I scroll through Instagram story after Instagram story pretending that I had a super cool time at this party.

Oh my God, did I say that out loud? I’m so sorry. This party is awesome and I love the refreshments. Have I mentioned that I absolutely adore this wine? It’s, like, ~soothing my soul~ right now. It’s been a long week and, like, here I am with you and your cool friends wallowing in my own self doubt and comparing myself to strangers! It’s like, who even am I anymore? Like, what have I become?

I really don’t get how you don’t see her. I’ve been, like, extremely specific. She is NOT the girl with the curly red hair. She is NOT the girl with the navy turtleneck. She is NOT the girl in the mustard yellow dress. She is the girl with the glasses! In the beautiful rose gold frock with the high pony! She’s, like, emphatically talking to someone now, waving her hands all around. And, like,—oh thanks for refilling my glass—she looks so cool doing it. Like I bet whoever she’s talking to just thinks she’s really funny and whatever story she’s telling is super captivating. And, like, if that were me? If I were, like, waving my arms around like that? I’d look like a total lunatic. You’d be like OH MY GOD WHO EVEN INVITED THIS GIRL?

Hey, remember when we had that edible before? Has it kicked in for you yet? I’m, like, only feeling the wine, which is ~so fine~. I’m feeling pretty hungry and you know what? I’m feeling pretty brave right now. I’m totally going to talk to her. Throw caution to the wind! I’m going to put myself out there and make a new friend! I deserve it!

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Oh…my…GOD. You know what? Do you fucking know what? This entire time I’ve been looking at myself in the mirror that’s hanging over the chips. It’s like…woah. The way you see yourself when you’re not you? Woah. Like, woah. Sure, I’ll take another glass of wine, thanks!