Friday, August 29, 2008

Average Jane

"Oh no! She's got self-esteem issues," you might say.

To which, I would reply:

Honestly, I don't mind being an average Jane. (I do take offense when someone calls me a plain Jane, but that's another story.) See, I don't need to be pretty. I believe I have so much more to offer that it would really be just greediness on my part if I get an A+ in the looks department too. Not that I don't care enough about my appearance. I the point that I even have pet names for each visible pore on my forehead. I'm just saying that I acknowledge that on a daily basis, I'm like a 6 or a 6.5. And when I'm feeling extra plucky, I force people to admit that I'm at least a shaky 7 on the attractiveness scale. I have no problems with that at all. Of course, I can aspire to be an 8, even a 9, but let's be honest, that would require some serious cash-burning, which my cheap ass can ill afford. So let’s not go there.

On the other hand, I’m one average Jane with some sick talent and skills in writing. And I tend to go ape-shit when people start criticizing the things I’m really good at. Well, I have learned to control my acerbic tongue from lashing out at idiots who can’t tell good from bad, baaaaad, bizzzzaaadd writing. Seriously, if you can’t even string decent sentences together, you have no friggin’ right to “comment” on someone else’s work, especially if (1) you don’t write for a living (like I do); (2) the rules of basic subject-verb agreement escapes you (unlike me); and (3) you are an idiot. By this time, my point should have hit you like a ton of bricks (weak simile, but what the heck...) I’m saying that yes, I’m an average Jane. And yes, apart from being witty, funny as fuck, and being jolly good fun (even when I’m drunk as a skunk), I am THE average Jane that stands apart from the unholy alliance of all the average Janes in this world.

Well, I guess that makes me highly un-average, after all.

But at least I’m not an idiot…

Thursday, August 28, 2008

What It is About

It's about saving me from myself. It's about calling me on my shit and telling me my brattiness just doesn't cut it. It's about questioning my so-called brilliance, because --trust me--I do need it. It's about the total acceptance of my disgusting habits. It's about the complete understanding that all these flaws make me all the more perfect.

Friday, August 22, 2008


For all the atrocities I have inflicted on humanity, I pride myself in knowing that I have never (knowingly) disrespected the bond between a man and his significant other.

But there's a first time for everything, I must say. And now I'm seriously thinking about committing that sin.

The next time you see me, I may be a card-carrying home-wrecker. I will not be surprised if people point at me and say, "You ma'am, are nothing but a heartless harlot."

It's terrible. (Of course, it is.) But I'm afraid, I'm in too deep.

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Love in Technicolor

There is enough magic in the air
that I can almost taste the colors exploding in my mouth.

There is enough magic in the air
that sparks are shooting off my fingertips.

There is enough magic in the air
that I can almost see the twinkle in God's eyes.