Not hot

Beau had a barbecue over the weekend. There were different people from lots of different backgrounds there, which made it fun.

As we watched a bizarre game involving two PVC pipes, two Corona beer bottles, two drunken teams, an insane number of rules, and a frisbee, I chatted with Steve, one of Beau's old friends. Pretty soon, one of the buxom girls at the party approached him with a sharpie-scrawled napkin and said Here's my information. Let me know when you have more details about the shoot.

When she walked away, I looked at him and he said Oh, that's for a photo shoot we're doing with motorcycles. We need some hot girls for it. I saw her and thought she was perfect. I also asked Chris' girlfriend (he pointed her out) because she's hot too.

I nodded and we resumed watching the game. And then it hit me. HEY, WAIT A MINUTE!

That wasn't even subtle.

When it comes to seminude motorcycle-photo-shoot standards... I. Am. Not. Hot.

Coming just six days after the birthday that landed me a year closer to 40, that was a bit rough. 

I let it roll off my back. Kind of. Beau heard about it plenty. I joked about it. And though I have nice, cute girl-next-door qualities, I realize I'm not the kind of girl you'd picture bending over a motorcycle--not even when I was 18. But still.

It was one of those milestone blows. I think I've hit that period of life where I look good... for my age.

Sigh. :)