1. My eyebrows are unkempt. Fortunately, they don’t meet in the middle or naturally run ragged all over the northern hemisphere of my face. But my eyebrow maintenance routine consists of me smoothing them with my fingers so that all the hairs are laying in the same direction.
2. Finger nails – I don’t get it. I cut them so that I don’t accidentally slice a bitch, but other than that, I don’t get it. I’ve had two manicures in my whole entire life and the experience was mediocre and left me acutely aware of my giant manhands. I don’t understand what they’re for, why they haven’t been Darwined out of us by now, and why people paint them bright colours.
3. Toe nails – see above.
4. My posture while sitting resembles the letter C. Either my abs are too weak or my back is too weak or I’m just pretty lazy. I think maybe all three, in a vicious cause-and-effect cycle.
5. I like superhero movies better than I like romcoms. Admittedly, I’ll sit through, and occasionally enjoy, a good love story, but nine times out of ten, I’ll take a film with lots of ‘splosions instead, please. I like movies based on comic books over movies based on romantic novels and that’s because none of that mushy stuff happens in real life. At least with a superhero movie, they’re not pretending that their stuff does.
6. High heels are the devil’s handiwork. Why do women have to teeter 3-5 inches above their natural resting height, stunting their Achilles and deforming their calves? To make their legs appear longer or something? Screw that. Walking is dangerous enough in flats, what with all the cracks in the sidewalk to trip on and curbs to stumble over and light poles to slam into; I’d rather not make the commute from my car to my office more treacherous than it already is.
7. I don’t like dresses or skirts, either. I’ll wear them, once in a while, along with a pair of sensible heels, to a wedding or special event, but always begrudgingly and I might even sulk my way through the whole thing. Dresses and skirts make me feel vulnerable and exposed. I need my legs to be encased in fabric so as to not feel the breeze on my thighs. I like pants.
8. I occasionally snort-laugh in front of strangers.
9. And while NOT being a fancy lady doesn’t NECESSARILY mean I’m gross, I have accidentally belched in public. And tinkled in my pants while snort-laughing, but that has less to do with my fancy lady status and more thanks to my kids.
10. I’m pretty sure “licking utensils clean between each bite” is not in any sort of table etiquette manual, and yet here we are.
11. The last hair cut I got was in 2011, and not in the late part.
12. I’ve never eaten quinoa. And while I do know how you’re supposed to pronounce it, my first instinct is always “kwee-no-ah”, instead of “keen-wah” and I think that is grounds for status revocation.
13. As I told you a few days ago, I instructed my very young, very impressionable young daughter to pinch her snot streams off with her fingers and rinse them in the sprinkler. Not only am I not a fancy lady, but I’m setting my kids up for disappointment because I’m pretty sure their grown up aspirations include becoming a princess, who are always fancy ladies.
14. I never wanted to be a princess. Princesses wear dresses.
15. When one of Rage Against The Machine’s songs come on the radio (and it doesn’t matter which one because they’re all just slight variations of each other), I turn it up, “sing” along as loud as I can, and fill in the censor bleeps with the real thing. See also: Cypress Hill, DMX.
16. I am a firm believer in the 5-second rule.