I Make My Own Fashion Shows

Stayed home from school today and already called out for tomorrow due to a little thing called lack of voice. I considered doing all my lessons in sign language then remembered a) I don't know sign language and b) my class needs plenty of "voice intervention."

Too many cups of honey-infused tea has me jittery and sleepless... and oh yeah, still voiceless, thus I was able to enjoy the Victoria's Secret fashion show which was on an hour past my usual bed time. Watching all those glittery "outfits?", listening to the catchy beats, and catching glimpses of so many celebrities had me pretty captivated. I felt like Houston watching his morning episode of Thomas the Tank Engine: colors, music and British accents.

I imagined how much greater my life would be if I too, was a VS model. Except for my small boobs which I happen to like. And the fact that I can't walk in a heel over 1/4 inch. And the fact that I could probably never eat a cheeseburger EVER again. Or my Friday chocolate glazed doughnut. Or take cream in my coffee. And I could never just chill out in granny panties because even when you feel like crud, you'd probably have to don something glittery and floss-like. I'm not cut out to be a model.

I'm not going to lie, sometimes when I'm walking down the halls at school, I feel the need to strut it a little. Those hallways are long. And if you don't look too long in the mirrors along the hallway, you can trick your brain into thinking you're hot stuff. And sometimes my mom's words come into my brain, "Danielle, what if you were in an accident and they had to cut off your pants?" There's about 3% natural model running through my veins. But it's a all a bit too much maintenance for this girl. And I really like my Friday doughnuts. Those poor models don't know what they're missing.