I'm too sexy for my hat... maybe?

Since the 4th of July is my favorite holiday of the year, I try to schedule myself some downtime the day before to relax and get into the blowing-stuff-up mood. (I know guys are always in the mood for explosions, but, as with other things, it takes a little more for us girls.) I usually get a manicure/pedicure, sometimes an eyebrow wax, and often a haircut. This year, I saved a portion of my Christmas bonus just for this day, and I got through the last interminably boring hours of Wednesday at work trying to decide upon the exact shade of red to color my hair.

And then, last night, my boyfriend and I went out to see a late showing of Wanted, and I learned a very important lesson.

NEVER go to see an Angelina Jolie movie the night before a day when you will want to feel sexy. Give it a week at least. In fact, for optimum self-esteem, you should probably give up all movies featuring Angelina Jolie entirely. There is one scene in Wanted in which she climbs out of a bath, her back to the camera, her hair piled artlessly atop her head, and glances back over her shoulder.

Did part of me enjoy the moment? Absolutely yes. Ms. Jolie is quite possibly the most beautiful woman in the world, and the purely aesthetic pleasure that anyone sighted gains from her face and form are undeniable. But another part of me in that moment realized with absolute certainty that I will never, ever, under any circumstance, as the result of surgery or magic spell, look that good.

It wasn't quite as depressing as it sounds. On some level, it's like realizing you're never going to be as flexible as an Olympic gymnast from Belarus. It's okay, because you never really thought you were, and how would being able to put your ankles behind your head improve your life anyway? (I know what you're thinking, but that's really more attractive in the abstract than in practice. If you need a gimmick to attract a guy that badly, just bribe a girlfriend to make out with you - at least that doesn't require years of practice.)

But it does kind of make all my girly primping rituals feel useless. I mean sure, I'm now a fairly hot redhead wearing my traditional 3rd of July outfit, a barely-decent white miniskirt and spaghetti-strap blue tank top with red white and blue star earrings, and sure, migrant workers honked at me and one guy driving next to me stared so hard that he forgot to go when his light turned green, but what does that matter when I'll never be Angelina Jolie?

I tried to snap myself out of it by reminding myself that she's currently pregnant with twins and thus not quite as shapely as she was onscreen. Alas, my brain ruthlessly reminded me that she is sexier than me even while pregnant, and also the twins were fathered by Brad Pitt, which I'm pretty sure gives her some sort of bonus points.

But I went and had my hair done today anyway, and I'm not planning on renouncing makeup anytime soon. So far, general public reaction has been favorable, and my self-esteem is slowly recovering. I can guarantee you this, though - if I ever get married, I'm hiding every Angelina Jolie movie in the house.

Just until after the wedding.