White Teeth, or Hey! That's MY Life!

Do you ever feel like somebody else is living your dream life? I mean, you can see them -- right there -- with their cute kids and dog and husband, or cute haircut, clothes, and shoes that no one would really wear, really.

Zadie Smith is living my dream life. I wonder if it's all as glamorous -- or, as she would spell it, glamourous -- as it is in my head. Zadie wrote the book I wanted to write -- White Teeth. Granted, I had no idea before I started reading it, that I wanted to write it, but that's irrelevant.

Maybe it's the fact that she wrote White Teeth while she was still in school at Cambridge, for crying out loud. She was 24 when she wrote it. 24. I'm 25 and counting. Or maybe it's the fact that she's a beautiful Erykah Badu lookalike.

(L) Zadie Smith (R) Erykah Badu

(Maybe it's just the headwrap thing that makes them look alike?)

Or maybe it's that Zadie Smith's married to a Northern Irish poet. Named Nick Laird. C'mon, Lauren Laird? Has a nice ring to it, eh? I mean, he could be a really bad poet, but for the sake of the argument, I'm guessing he's the next Seamus Heaney.

Or maybe it's that she's British/Jamaican. And writes perfect British and/or Jamaican accents.

Or maybe it's that she can pull off the headwrap thing. Those things are just so cool.

I'm not jealous. Really. It's just weird that if I picked a dream life, hers would be it. I know when you're actually living that life, there are always things that aren't so rosy.

My life's a good one. And I don't want to trade it for any one else's. But I wonder if I got a little more tan if I could pull off a headwrap? What do you think? (I think I'd probably look like an orthodox Jewish lady or a cancer patient.)