I'm the Gift Exchange Present Wrapped in Newspaper

   A guy walks down the street. He sees a girl with beautiful hair, gorgeous eyes and a smile that lights up a room. Her body is perfect and she walks with a certain confidence that girls yearn to have. As she walks by, the guys glance stays glued to her until she disappears into a crowd of people who are subpar to her. There is a 100% chance that that girl is not me. 

   No matter how many relatives tell me I'm beautiful, how many friends tell me I'm pretty and how many of my mom's friends comment on her Facebook pictures of me "gorgeous :-)", I have not, do not and will not ever stop traffic with my looks. And that's not to say I'm lacking in self confidence. I'm surely NOT, in fact, I have a lot more self confidence than I probably should have. But as a gift wrapped in newspaper is looked over to the gifts in beautiful wrapping paper, men simply look over me and at the beautiful bitch who was born flawless. 

    At gift exchanges, there is always that lazy ass participant who wanted nothing to do with the exchange, so he/she grabbed last Sunday's paper and tossed their gift in it and taped it in 3 or 4 spots. It lays in the middle of the floor as things are opened, the last gift to be chosen as always. In my own personal experience, one time the gift that was unveiled when the last person was obligated to choose the gift was a pooper scooper. One time it was high quality, soft heated blanket. I like to think of myself as the quality heated blanket. 

   Sometimes, when there's a less than perfect person and someone delves into their personality, you find out that his or her personality is just about as dull as their exterior. Sometimes they just have nothing going for them. Sometimes you discover that this person is literally a personified rock. They are the pooper scooper. But sometimes, someone will look past the huge box that is wrapped in solid gold, or the gift bag filled with endless opportunities, and open the gift wrapped in 1998's obituaries and unveil a really funny, cool individual who may not look like a sculpted statue of perfection on the outside but has a personality that's worth it anyway. That's how I see myself. I'm the high quality heated blanket wrapped in newspaper. 

   The gift wrapped in solid gold wrapping paper will inevitably be opened first. It catches the eye. It holds a stare. But sometimes you open it to find that your uncle forgot a gift so he wrapped up an old, broken picture frame that says "our precious baby boy" and a dirty old lampshade. Sometimes, the perfect thing on the outside doesn't match the contents within. 

   The beautiful wrapping paper and the newspaper all have something in common: they get ripped to find what lies within. (Unless you're one of those people who saves rapping paper by delicately opening the gift and not tipping  anything and in that case you're irrelevant and we all hate you). In the long run, it's not going to matter if who has the prettier eyes or the hotter body, what's going to matter is if you end up with a pooper scooper and a lampshade or a soft, warm blanket that everyone ends up wishing they had. 

  So maybe you're a solid gold wrapped pooper scooper. Maybe you're a newspaper wrapped stack of cash. I like to think that my hilarious personality is not accurately reciprocated in my external features, but I know one day someone will decide to look past all of the beautiful exteriors and open a gift wrapped in newspaper. Or one day the unlucky soul who drew number 37 ends up obligated picking me. Who knows. But don't judge a book by its cover, because sometimes there's a really dull cover and you're unable to but the book down, and sometimes the book had sweet cover art but is about differentiating between different types of soil.