reasons people don't call me girly

But it's not as intense as it was as you can see evidenced in this photo:

You see, friends. I know my nails are a) done. b) pink. - which sort of contradicts this post title. Screw Nostradamus, this madness happenin here on ma nails could signal the end of the world. But, what you can't see in the photo is how badly I want to grab them with my teeth and rip the paint off, followed by intense biting down to the quick. But I need to stop. Right? So, I'm sitting here, staring at my nails, fighting the urge to attack them, thinkin, "I feel like bloggin. But, I don't really have anything appropriate to say." Then, I thought, "Gyahhhh. I wonder how long I can stand my nails like this. Hopefully the fact that I put forth effort to paint them will keep me from biting them and making them look haggard x10." Then, I kept on thinkin, "How did I come from someone so prissy?" And, this blog post was born. I give to you:

Reasons Why People Don't Call Me Girly

Enjoy.

* I HATE the mall. Well, I strongly dislike it. I like to go about once every 6 months when I know exactly what I'm looking for. And it's because I can't find it anywhere outside the mall. And plus, the mall makes me thirsty. And I hate water, so I inevitably end up consuming mass amounts of Diet Coke. Fail.

* I am not addicted to stuff that other chicks (apparently) love ... Grey's, The Real ho-wives of BlahBlahBlah, Kardashians, Bachelor, blah, blah, blah

* I pretty much dislike pink - especially in baby clothes ... I don't understand a couple of things:
 1) who started pink = girl, and blue = boy? Guess what? Not only am I not a pink-lover, I ain't down with baby blue either;
 2)coating an entire room in pink ... lace, ruffles, bows, ribbons, anything "princess" (die) ... I can handle a little floral, mixed with some stripes or something ... and a dash of pink occasionally, but not more than a dash.What's wrong with purple and green and yellow and pastels?

* Even though I constantly teach youngsters how inaprops it is to belch out, I totally do it all the time.

* I prefer beer, then Beam & Coke, then wine ... but I usually find wine to be nauseating and it makes my pulse race and my head throb.

* I don't allow other people to touch my diabetic feet to paint them. I've done this literally like twice in my life. GERMS. GROSS. And I can do that shiz at home for free. And Andrew will massage my feet if I ask him to.

* Monogramming must be kept to a minimum - flasks, keepsakes, LL Bean shiz.

* spas, massages, etc ... again, weirds me out. I don't want anybody rubbin me down that I ain't married to.

* I will pee outside if I have to (i.e., tailgating/mudslingin/after a second date on the way home and the nearest facility is waaaaaay over yonder somewhere. No thanks.

* I don't count calories or fat grams and eat rabbit food for lunch. NOT because I think I'm the hotness, but because I love food and I'm not willing to add more shiz to my "keep up with this" list. Just eat the damn fries. Thank you. And bring me some ranch to go with.

* Oftentimes, I am the one who is being rowdy/shouting obscenities at the other team at NC State football games. Sometimes, I think Andrew is genuinely embarrassed.

* I HATE heels. Both tarheels and pumps ;) Now, let me be clear. I think they are hot. But, I DO NOT wear them, unless I am in someone's wedding or attending some function that lasts no more than a few hours. My cowboy hoots are the highest heels I actually wear. I don't know how you shugpies wear them painful ass shoes. Ouch.

* I cuss like a sailor. I am starting to feel some guilt about this, however. It is a work in progress.

* I didn't give a royal rat's ass about the royal wedding

I DO, however enjoy the following:

* shopping at flea markets, thrift stores, consignment shops, and yard sales where I will purchase vintage fabrics that contain florals

* makeup - foundation, eyes, lips (although I didn't start wearing it until college) .. I don't get into "skin products"

* hair - so ready for this shiz to be long enough to pull up into some top knot - so admire you chicks with long, thick, magical hair

* acupuncture - my version of spa/pedicure/"me" time
 
* I don't so much mind painted piggies - but I like to do them myself, thank you.

* I do love me a leather handbag and some boots.

* Bachelorette weekends/girls' trips? Yes, please. Get. away. throw. down. 


Interesting because I totally did not play sports. (Except one random year of volleyball because I was "tall" {5'6" !!!} at the tiny tiny tiny high school I attended freshman year). That's right. I'm not girly OR athletic. Also, my mama is pretty prissy (or is high maintenance a better term?) She has a job that requires "dressing up" - everyday, skirts, hoses, accessorizing and some type of heel. Annnnnd she loves some girly decor and thinks my burps are absolutely horrendous. (I've caught her burping like that a handful of times, though. If this is my last post it's because my mom hid my body after reading this). She did her best to make me wear tights, but eventually the crotch grabbing from the incessant riiiiiding got old. And dance class? No dice. Just wasn't worth the weekly sob fest.

Also, one of my best friends is mayjahly girltastic, but I guess we just get where the line is in each others' taste. She was my MOH in my wedding, and her mother was our director, and they both had to BEG me to get my nails painted for the festivities. But I drew the line at an eyebrow wax. Hell to the naw. I've seen how some people look after some cray cray gets a hold of their eyebrows.

To each his her own.