Revelation

When I was hanging out with The Roommate on Saturday - chatting - catching up on recent events and happenings - I had a revelation.

I am not a "nice girl". At least not truly.

Which is not to say I'm a bitch or a "meanie" or even a hooch (i.e. archetypes such as "The Madonna", "The Whore", etc.) or any other type of woman opposite of "nice"... I'm just not a "nice girl".

Meaning I fall into that very important and large category of "Other".

I'll tell you why I'm not a "nice girl".

I like to go out and drink it up.

I like to behave recklessly (within reason).

I enjoy using foul language (clearly).
*Especially when watching SPURS games.*

I have on occasion bent the truth a bit to serve personal purposes (perhaps too often).

I talk a bit of smack.

(Especially in public places. Oh, but never in any real obvious or malicious way.)

*Hey - you try NOT making fun of that one "mature" woman at the bar who hasn't been out since 1994 because she's still wearing turquoise shirts with fringe. Or even better that one drunk, bald guy (and I'm not referring to the hot bald guys) you catch hitting on some poor unsuspecting, clearly-out-of-his-league woman sitting at the bar. Yeah. I rest my case.*

I tailgate. Once again - this is entirely out of necessity. I mean - the left lane is for passing, not for being in my damn way people!

I am sarcastic.
*Altho, I like to think of it as educated remarks meant to cause amusement.*

I could go on (and I'm sure in another post, I will), but for now I'll leave you with these prime examples of my personality. In all its glory.

Good night and good luck.