Average Jane

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"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 do...to 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…