Explanation

So here's the realization that I had today.

When I was in law school, I had these four friends that were instrumental, nay, indispensable, in my survival of classes, job interviews, long study sessions, crying jags, finals, and eventual graduation. We were the first Magic Five. I wasn't the smartest of the bunch, nor the hottest, I didn't have the best hair, and I definitely didn't get the best grades. One of the Five was my buddy Jay, who I've mentioned here before. And here. And here. Anyway, Jay and I were the funny ones. And the kind of chubby ones (love you, Jay!! You're so cute in that shirt!! Very flattering!!). Not that the other three aren't funny, in fact, I appreciate Mitch's humor more and more every time I see him, and I pee my pants every time I'm around Melanie. I haven't seen Cassie for a while, but she's always laughing, so obviously she's funny. Or high. However, those three already had the brains, looks, good hair and top-notch grades, so they can't have the funny too. Jay and I have to bring something to the table.

However.

Jay and I had a theory that those persons who are on the slightly chubby side are compelled to develop other talents in order to be appealing. Thus, often the fat kid = the funny kid. And so it was for us.

But now, I've lost some weight. I'm slimming down. I'm wearing fishnets to work. And I'm just not that funny anymore. I wouldn't want to blame it on some introspective nonsense like "Oh Cara, you never really were," or the fact that I'm getting boring in my old age (happy birthday to me on Saturday!! No really, 36 is totally the new 34!). No, the lack of funny is clearly linked to my shrinking backside. Sadly, now I'm in this crazy no-man's-land where I'm not thin enough to be hot and I'm not fat enough to be funny. It's a strange new world.