So, I know it might be hard to tell by this whole blog thing, but I’m about as perfect as Kate Moss without makeup.
Here’s a partial list of some of my most annoying vices.
I’ve got a wee bit of a potty mouth.—I cuss. A lot. Around people I should not be cussing around. Like professional colleagues, and older people, and children. Every year I make the same New Year’s resolution and every year I fail at about 12:03. In my defense (but really, it’s indefensible), I do come from a long line of cussers. There have even been a few truck drivers that have married and/or shacked up with family members, so I do come by it honestly. Cussing is a high art in the West Texas trailer parks where I come from.
I’m a big old braggert.—Total Braggy McBraggerton, in case you couldn’t tell by this whole blog, which is pretty much a vehicle for me to brag and push my opinions on others. I actually have a pretty good excuse for this. I had a really, really crappy childhood. I grew up in some not-so-nice conditions, like the type of conditions that people write books about. Like, say, Jeannette Wall’s The Glass Castle or Mary Karr’s The Liar’s Club. Just for example. Growing up, I really didn’t have much in life to brag about. In fact, I had a lot to complain about. But I survived it, I worked hard and got out of my super crappy situation, and now, my life is pretty f-ing awesome. In my opinion, I’ve earned the right to brag and so I do.
I like to tell “stories.”—And sometimes those stories are “revised” to make them more interesting. This particularly happens with stories relating to my relationship with my Boyfriend-for-Life, XFE. I tend to do it when relaying a story to other friends about something involving both of us, and XFE definitely calls me out on it. It’s usually just a slight tweak or tiny white lie, but I can’t seem to help myself.
And, again, I would defer to my childhood, where there were quite a few tall-tale tellers (ok, pathological liars) who liked to tell people they were raised by their grandfather on a horse ranch in Mexico and never saw electricity until they were sold into basically white slavery when they were married off at the tender age of 18. (I swear, I’m not making that story up. One of my very close relatives used to tell people that. It is, obviously, not true). Also, we moved around A LOT until I was about 13 years old, so timelines and facts are a very amorphous concept to me. I really do sometimes struggle with memory.
I think I have reverse body dysmorphia.—Unlike anorexics who think they’re fat, I tend to think I’m thinner than I actually am. I don’t keep a scale in the house, but when I do weigh myself, I’m absolutely shocked by the number (145, by the way). I grew up super skinny (I was a size zero until I was about 30 years old), with all kinds of boney-ness, so I still think of myself as a thin person.
Now, I’m not delusional. I’m not walking around in clothes that are way too small and tight because I refuse to try on a size 8. I don’t give a crap about the number on the label because again, I think I’m the diggity bomb. So I don’t let pesky things like a number on a label get in the way of that pseudo-fact. This whole reverse body image hasn’t caused any problems other than the scale surprise. I just always assume the scales are wrong since I like what I see in the mirror. (Not as much as this girl who has a song called, “Damn I Look Good.” Awesome.)
I’m opinionated and think others care.—This, I don’t know where it comes from. I’ve always been a know-it-all–can’t blame this one on the upbringing. And I have no filter whatsoever. Crap just flies out of my mouth, unsolicited. I’d like to be able to say I’m just a shoot-from-the-hip kinda gal, but honestly, I think it can be uber-annoying and I should really cut it out. I think that whole, “I’m just being honest” junk is an excuse for being thoughtless. I actually spend a lot of time backtracking with people and apologizing for stuff that I suspect came off as quite rude. Nobody needs to hear everything going on in my head. And I’m not the authority on everything. Yet.
Anyone else have any annoying habits/vices they want to fess up to? Any other know-it-alls out there? Should we have a dance off to see who is really “Damn I Look Good” worthy?