So, just as I was complaining about men who turn out to be bald or fat in person, I was pulling a deception of my own. 

This guy, Pete, had sent me a friend request through myspace.  From his pictures, he looked like maybe he was a club promoter, just looking to add people so he could advertise.  But he was cute, and I liked what he said in his profile, so I added him anyway to see if he was for real. 

We ended up emailing all day Sunday and then arranging to meet up Tuesday night for a drink.  Unfortunately, my face broke out pretty badly on the right side.  I was 10 minutes late, because I was unsuccessfully attempting to cover my imperfections. 

"How do I look?" I asked Val, frantically before I walked out.
"Good," she responded.
"No, I mean my face.  How bad does it look?"
"It's looked worse."

I thought back to the end of a date I went on two years ago with Billy where he had said to me, "I knew this was going to be a good date."
"How?"
"Because I broke out," he said, pointing to a spot on his face I had not noticed previously.
I laughed, not only because I had broken out too, but also because he was right.  It was a really good date.  Maybe breakouts are an omen of good things? 

Either way, I resolved not to care how this night went.  I bet that I wouldn't like him, and it helped to bring him down in my mind, thinking of him as a "pretty boy"--after all, he had gone to the tanning bed before we went out. 

But still, I hated that my pictures showed a girl with smooth, clear skin and that was not really the case that night.  So, when we met at the bar, I took a seat to his right and chewed strategically on a thumbnail so that the rest of my hand would cover my breakout.  I was grateful for the dim, red light of the bar--everyone looks good in red light. 

He ended up being a lot of fun in person, and I was disappointed that he would not be calling me again, because I was not the girl in my pictures. 

But I was wrong.  He did call again.  And he texts nearly everyday.

So now, I have resolved to look at my occasional acne as a good omen instead of a social hinderance. 

Easier said than done ...