Confessions of an Ugly Girl Read Online Free PDF Page B

like me wouldn’t care about appearances. But when someone who looks like me is dating a guy in a wheelchair, everyone feels sorry for both of us. Like I’m some loser who can’t get a normal guy and he’s some loser who can’t get an attractive girl. If I were pretty, I could date Sam in peace.
    “I know he’s a little different,” Donna said, “but he seems really sweet. What have you got to lose?”
    Then I remembered:
    “I’ve got a date tomorrow,” I said.
    I was immediately sorry I said that because she then proceeded to pump me for all the details, but at least she stopped talking about Sam. I never went over to talk to Sam, but I couldn’t help but glance his way a bunch of times. Once or twice, I caught his eye and he winked at me and smiled. God, he has a really great smile.
     
     
    July 20:
     
    I just got off the phone with my mother, which always puts me in a bad mood.
    Ugly girls have two kinds of mothers: the kind that are really wonderful and supportive and tell them not to give up, and the kind that tells them that they’re not going to find a man till they drop 20 pounds.
    Three guesses which one my mom is.
    My dad is okay. Normal even. My mother is the one who drives me crazy. Nothing I do is ever good enough for her. I know, it’s the oldest story in the world, cry me a river, but let me tell you, it would be nice to call her once and not have her yell at me that I’m too fat. Just once in 33 years. That’s all I ask.
    My social life (or lack thereof) is apparently going to give her a stroke, or so she says. I’ve made her old before her time. Every gray hair on her head is my fault. It’s not enough that I have a good job and I don’t do drugs or cause any other sort of trouble or major embarrassment.
    Just to show you how desperate she is for me to get married, she doesn’t even care whether I marry a Jewish guy anymore. When I was younger, this was really important to her. My future husband had to be Jewish. And he had to be a doctor or a lawyer, or something else respectable, like maybe a professor. (A professor of medicine or law.)
    Now she just wants me to find someone who is breathing, and hopefully speaks English.
    Luckily for my mother, my younger sister Rachel already married a Jewish doctor. Rachel not only lucked out by being named Rachel and not freaking Matilda , but she’s also completely gorgeous. I’m not sure how that happened. She’s so pretty that if she wandered out into the forest, the animals would surround her and start singing. I know since we’re sisters, we must share some genetic material, but it really doesn’t seem that way sometimes. One of us must have been switched at birth.  
    It drives my mother crazy that I live on my own even though I’m not married. A single girl should not live on her own. Every day I go into the city unescorted I’m risking my life. Do I want to be raped or murdered ?
    I feel fairly confident I won’t get raped, at least. Who would want to rape me? I’m sure any would-be rapist in a dark alley would decide to hold out for a more attractive victim.
    Lately, my mother has stepped it up and made it her mission to get me a man. I allowed her to set me on a date exactly once, and then decided I would never allow her to do it again. I’m fairly sure that the man that she set me up was mentally retarded or autistic. Sorry if that isn’t PC or whatever, but I don’t want to date a guy who doesn’t look up from his food once through the entire meal and only speaks to me in monosyllabic grunts.
    Oh, and now that my mother has figured out how to email, I get daily diet tips emailed to me. Yesterday was Beyoncé’s lemon detox diet, which involves eating nothing but lemons until I die from lemon poisoning. I love getting a daily reminder in my inbox that I’m fat. I’m essentially dieting 100% of the time anyway.
    At least this time I was able to tell my mother about my super exciting date tonight. She seemed pleased to