Boys Don't Make Passes...

One thing I learned early in life was the paramount importance of possessing golden locks and lacking horrid glasses. This harsh revelation came about early in life for me in the second grade. Danny, a handsome charmer, had an overwhelming proclivity for yellow tresses and I most certainly fit the bill. I still remember his loud declaration of ‘loving blondes’ as he chased me and other flaxen-haired females around the playground at recess. I was in ‘sought after heaven’ the entire year as my natural attributes held his rapt attention and obvious approval, but oh what a difference a year can make! The lofty heights of second grade were closely followed by the depths of third grade despair as my looks went to hell in a handbasket. Much to my chagrin, my alluring mane had the audacity to darken to a disgusting mousy brown and my eyesight plummeted to fuzzy, nearsighted blobs on the overhead thus sealing my fate as a four-eyed geek. My physical failings paralleled my dismal failure to hold Danny’s interest any longer and other cuties now held his male attention. From the ashes of my abject misery rose the steadfast resolution to regain my rightful title as blonde princess. Years past as I endured the awkward prepubescent era of shapeless skinny bod topped off with a hideous thick, brown mop and pop-bottle specks, but eventually the day dawned when the glasses were replaced with glorious contacts and peroxide application lightened the dark tresses. Slowly but surely I transformed into a late blooming teenage goddess pursued by the male admirers I had long coveted. Though not yet a ravishing blonde, dear Danny’s gaze once again swiveled in my direction in our junior year and he asked me out. I declined. No, it was not out of spiteful revenge but rather a lack of interest on my part that precipitated that gracious refusal. Not long thereafter I did morph to flowing saffron-hued tresses and have never looked back. Blonde suits me and always has. And though I no long have a knee jerk revulsion for spectacles, I still prefer contacts and wear them whenever I leave the house. The days of that callous discovery have long past but the girl I was will forever have etched in her memory banks what it truly takes to charm and intrigue a guy. Funny how ancient lessons are never truly forgotten...