I think about being attractive a lot.

I don’t do so because I am vain (although, don’t get it twisted — I am vain. By popular standards and the Christian Ethic I somewhat affirm, having 693 selfies stored in the ‘Favorites’ album of my iPhone is a little much).

I think I do it mostly because it is entirely too difficult to grasp the language for appearance, and aesthetic, for what it’s like to be the ugly sister, or the hot friend, or the “7-but-could-be-cuter-with-a-good-face-wash,” or all 3 standards at once, in different spaces, through different measures.