I Got 99 Vices and Modesty Ain’t One

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.

"Yikes that girl sure can cuss like a sailor! Hope the Queen didn't hear her."

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.

"No really Zara, you're wedding was just as nice as mine, perhaps even nicer, really. Sure, sure."

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.)

Size 8, I wish I were a size 8! I guess I need some of that XFE cooking so I too can have an awesome bod.

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.

"Tut, tut, that’s enough. Nobody wants to hear your opinion. A proper princess knows when to keep her trap shut!"

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?

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5 thoughts on “I Got 99 Vices and Modesty Ain’t One

  1. Forgive me sister, for I have sinned. I make up stories about myself to tell people sitting next to me on airplanes, including a bogus name. I am a know-it-all and could probably benefit from not knowing-it-all every minute of the day, but hey, people can benefit from my knowingness, so I show it. I am opinionated and eager for others to share my opinion, which is probably why I’m in communications. Also, explains the pin a colleague gave me in the 1980’s that I still possess. It says “Not always right, but never in doubt.”

    1. I need that pin. Nothing stops me from expounding on things I don’t know an inkling about. I’ve been busted more than once recommending a movie or a book that I can describe in great detail, but have never read. As for stories on an airplane, well, that’s just entertaining and passes the time. I don’t think that’s sinful at all. (I love the people can benefit from my knowingness — hilarious)

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