Call me Claire . . .
I’m thrilled to report back that I won! I really did. And I won some really, really wonderful prizes (read about them here). Though this contest did not allow me to showcase my impressive drawings of people in colonial garb and though my prizes did not include a lifetime supply of Rice-A-Roni like the professional game show winners get, I’m nevertheless pleased as punch.
Sure, I know I didn’t have the best contest entry, but I know you all took pity on me with my I Have a Dream (To be A Mean Girl) speech. Yes, that pull-at-the-heartstrings approach really worked you over, and that is why I love every last one of you. Like whiskers on kittens!
Nope, no longer will I be unpopular Molly-Ringwald-as-Samantha. Today, going forward, I am popular Molly-Ringwald-as-Claire!
Okay, but there is this one thing. And I hesitate to even bring it up and seem ungrateful, I mean what with all the popularity that I’ve now achieved thanks to
our your votes — people wanting to french braid their hair in the same right-then-left formation as mine and chew the same flavor of gum (peach) as I do, people secretly having nightmares that they’ll bump into me at the mall while they’re out shopping with their parents, etc.
But now I’m having a little buyer’s remorse.
You see, in giving up my former life as unpopular Molly-as-Samantha . . .
. . . who ended up with the lovely Jake Ryan . . .
. . . I, Molly-Claire, . . .
. . . get to lock lips with . . .
. . . Skeezy Thug Guy . . .
. . . who probably has lip fungus. Or head lice. Or sports ballpoint pen tattoos.
But then again . . .
. . . it could be worse.