So during my birthday celebration (at a bar that is popular for bachellorette parties), we noticed that every bride-to-be was, to be eloquent, fat and ugly.  One of the brides was actually wearing yellow caution tape as a sash.  And I wouldn’t be suprised if she was going to wear a “WIDE LOAD” sticker on her ass while she walks down the isle.  But the point isn’t that these girls were unattractive, it’s that they actually found that special someone to share their lives with, while we are sitting around, good-looking and single.  What do these girls have that I don’t?  Am I just a miserable person?  I hate my job, I don’t have any money, and I get really cranky if things don’t go my way.  But who doesn’t?! 

Enter the number system:  If we’re all rated on a scale of 1-10, 10 being the prettiest, you can only date people who are at or below your number.  So if I was a 7, I could only date 7s and below.  But the problem is that we all want to aim higher.  And we’re not honest with ourselves about our own number.  So say I think I’m a 7, when actually I’m a 5, and I’m aiming for guys who are 9s.  That’s a difference of 4, and that’s never going to happen.  Add in the stereotype that super-attractive 9s also have a good chance of being arrogant selfish assholes.  So my whole life I’m wasting my time with 9s, when I should be picking out china with a 5.  But who wants to spend the rest of their sad pathetic life waking up next to a 5? Beep… Beep… Beep…