I hate standing next to ER's (John's bro) girlfriend. It's not because I don't like her...because I do. It's because I hate how imperfect I feel standing next to her. Without fail her hair will be perfectly clipped up/barretted, perfectly coiffed and looking sexy. Mine?Oh it's down, or in a ponytail, it really can't be described as anything else. Her makeup-flawless. Mine? Non-existent. Her clothes? Fabulous! Mine? This old thing? And I do mean this incredibly old thing bought at the GAP, probably the year I was going to enter college (which if we are keeping track...it's seven years at this point).

Perfect hair, perfect tan, stunning blue eyes, gorgeous long black hair, and a size two...why would I hate standing next to her?

Probably because after I put ketchup on my hot dog at the Phillies game, it dripped down the front of my shirt.