Now that I've grown considerably older, I can admit that I was never Holly Golightly. Never. I did spend a lot of years deluding myself into thinking that the movie character that best represented me was the character that Audrey Hepburn played that no one forgot. I never had a serious penchant for glamor. If anything, all that debauchery makes me want to throw up. I think diamonds are useless; they don't taste good and you can't really count on them if you want help losing weight. On top of it all, I have zero ambition. So I just have to accept facts. I have never been and will never be Holly Golightly.

Who I have always been is Janeane Garofalo. It took me some, um, 3-5 years to accept that painful fact but there it is. We have the same superhuman ability to look like total nerds next to our good looking best friends; we even look like we have a bad hair year every year.

Consider Exhibit A:

This is what seems to be Ms Hepburn's highschool photo. I'm not sure but it looks like it could be one. If it were, I'll tell you now that I have never looked anything like that in highschool. My idea of hair care was shampoo and water. I went to prom dressed like a character from a Tim Burton movie. I ate all the food, too.

Exhibit B:

Now this look is really more my speed. Note the chasm of difference between the two pictures. This is me on a very, very good day.

Exhibit C:

See? Notice the starved, crazed look around the eyes. The hairbrush stuck on my head is not for mere posterity, ladies and gents. The lip bite is not intentional. No, it's not, you ass.

Now I know the topic was not about looks at all but more on the differences between the characters these two icons have played in the past. But characters' looks have as much to do about the part as the way they act out the part. As an interviewee so eloquently said: I am not a cow. I don't have a confusion about the bush.

As I was saying, I have always been the Janeane Garofalo type. Since grade school, I've always belonged to a three-girl group. And there was always one very attractive girl in the group. And you guessed it... it wasn't me.

I'd like to make it clear that although I've made my image issues apparent in this entry, I've never boo-hooed about it. Having an attractive friend is something that I've always taken in stride. I guess that's why I studied extra hard so that I'd have a sort of edge. I always had to be the smart alecky one or else, I'd be no one, really. Because believe it or not, wit can be developed through years of solving complex, nearly incomprehensible math equations. Over and over again. If character is all you're hoping to have, make sure that you'd have loads of it so that you'll never run out until the day everyone is old and gray and looks like everybody else.

I remember a classic college story. My friends and I were freshmen then. A always got to be invited to freshmen beauty pageants and such and such and she was clearly the most attractive person in the group because B looked too thin and miserable and I could only be described as staunchy.

We all went to the same history class (blockmates!). Now there was this guy, I believe his name is Charles, who was in that same class with us. He wasn't distractingly attractive. I guess he was just very nice and accomodating and had that kind of smile that could blind you if you stared too long. Everyone liked this guy. Seriously. But he never seemed to realize how appealing he was and that... that was the best thing about him.

Imagine my (our) surprise when he walked up to me after a class and asked me if I wanted to go to the movies with him. All I could say to that was: EEEEKKK *^(*^*%&^&^R^$#^!!!! Anyway, gibberish, balderdash, then I said, Yes, of course, I'll go with you, Charles. (To the ends of the earth! To the ends of the earth!)

He bought tickets to Star Wars: The Phantom Menace. Which he picked, of course. Well, this is romantic, I thought. Nothing like some intergalactic shit to get a decent conversation going.

At the start of the movie, I informed him that I was happy that he's a Star Wars fan and all but I wasn't and I warned him that I'd be asking him questions throughout the entire movie. I knew guys hate the way girls blabber their way through good movie parts but I wanted to let him know that I had a genuine interest in what he was interested in. I had to establish a connection. And he was so nice... he explained almost all the parts that I didn't understand. So we watched and laughed. It was fun, in a completely wholesome way. It was terrible.

Then, at some point (and this is the part that's still as clear as day to me), he leaned closer to ask me something. I was beside myself with juvenile joy. This guy likes me, I thought. Not A. Me. And at that moment, this notion that I devised all by my lonesome did wonders for my ego.

Then I heard him. His voice was suddenly so clear. He was asking if A had a boyfriend.

I said, "No, she doesn't." I was aware of how horribly deadpan my voice sounded but I no longer cared. At that point, I had kissed coherence goodbye.

Then he said, "You think she'll like me?"

"What's not to like?"

And he went on and on about A and all the things he noticed about her. He was as bad as a girl with a crush. He was as bad as I was 5 minutes ago.

And the worst part was, he asked me if I could ask A if she wanted to go to the dance with him that was happening the next day. I said, sure, of course I'd tell her. And when the movie was over, he took me back to my apartment and the first thing I did was call A. I tried so hard to sound nonchalant (which was a tough feat, I'm telling you.) and she just kept squealing with joy.

So yeah, I'm so Janeane Garofalo. But I never really get the guy in the end. Let's just say my life feels like a movie, sometimes, and I'm playing a Garofalo character but my endings are almost always the My Best Friend's Wedding ending.

Well this is all sufficiently saddening. I hope I made you feel better about your life. Toodles.