If Only…
Last night I had an awesome dream. I was out somewhere attending some sort of career function where I didn’t know anyone, and out of no where a man came running up to me really excited. He pushed the lastest Fortune magazine into my hands and exclaimed “Is this really you?? Did you know you were in here??” and I saw that the page open was an advertisement with my photo in it and a caption saying “Vote For Maxim’s Hottest Real Chick, go online to vote for your favorite of the ten finalists…” There were also photos of nine other girls, all clearly not the normal Maxim model type, but all definitely hot. By this point everyone in the room had heard and were peering over my shoulder at the magazine.
How fucking cool would that be? And yes, I know Maxim has their annual Hot Hundred Chicks competition (which yes actually I did consider submitting to), but from what I recall very few if any of the finalists wore glasses, especially not the thick black artsy frames that I have worn for years. Not that that bothers me, because when was single I cannot tell you how many random guys came up to me and said sheepishly, “I really like your glasses….” It was cute. And hot. But not as hot as dreaming that you’re a finalist for a Maxim competition–in an advertisement in a FINANCIAL magazine of all things. But hey, sex sells, right? 
