#WorstGirlEver

It's a coincidence, I swear!

I have turned up here after ages and i check up the date of the my last post and LO AND BEHOLD it's been nearly exactly a year since. I should have procrastinated for an extra couple of days eh?

Well it's been due for a revival and the fact that the revival has succeeded with the publishing of this post (and the post WILL be published, mark my words) is something that should fill slacker bloggers across the globe with rays of hope and joy and sunlight and other positive things.

And I really like the black/pink contrast so I'm glad I have a reason to resurrect it. Why yes, there IS a reason. My friend the traveller did tell me she missed this blog but I ignored her, because that's what friends do. It took a conversation on Twitter with the lovely shoe-obsessed lawyer (more like lawyery shoe-obsessive) @Gabfran to make me realise how much I needed it. You know I love Twitter, yeah? I love it even more now than I did a year ago. A meaningful post to have paused the blog with.

So here's the story.

One fine morning I happened upon a hair straightener in my bathroom. It belonged to my new housemate - a real live GIRL (unlike me, a fake girl - we'll get to that). I'd never been so close to one before. I looked at it - took in the glowing red light, felt the white heat radiating from its metallic paws, tentatively prodded it with my index finger to see if it did anything. Then, I asked my housemate:

"Hey, can I try out your hair straightener?"

Lovely girl, she nodded energetically and I ventured a few dozen n00by questions. How do I do it? Does my hair have to be wet? Should I use a detangling serum? How long should I hold it in place?

Got some reasonably helpful answers. Had a shower. Dried out my hair as much as I could. Coated it with some leave in conditioner thing. Dried it out some more. Lost patience and attacked it with the irons.

I'm no girl, I don't have the courage to subject my hair to direct, intense heat for an extended amount of time, it'll get hurt. Despite my keenness to have it poker straight, I like my hair to be as au naturel as possible and that means wavy and slightly frizzy. AND I CAN DEAL WITH THAT. I don't need a straightener, I don't want a straightener, I'm never using one again.

And that is ONE of the reasons why I think I fail at being a girl. I twote about the experience and happily discovered that I was not alone. Nein, one of my own, the aforementioned @Gabfran was similarly un-chicky. We decided to blog about our laissez-faire girl personas. She had hers ready a week ago. Me, I have clearly taken slightly longer, but I shall blame that on pre-travel arrangements ('sup, New Delhi?) and so slide off the blame hook.

I mentioned in our twitter conversation that I had enough shockingly ungirly traits to fill up an entire hashtag and as homage to the medium, I now present to you

Reasons Why I Deserve The #WorstGirlEver hashtag:

- never had a manicure
- never had a pedicure
- never curled, permed, relaxed, primped, coloured, streaked, or straightened (yeah it didn't really work) my hair
- never had any epilatory substances or devices near or on my face (NB: never had to)
- can't remember when I last paid for a haircut
- found the perfect eyeliner from a male goth
- if the shoe hurts, don't wear it
- if the shoe has a heel, don't wear it
- if the shoe is by Converse, wear it
- bonus points for shoes I can put on and take off without having to (un)tie or (un)buckle
- shoe count - 12
- frequently worn shoe count - 6; Sneakers: 4, Mary Janes: 1, Thongs/Flip-Flops: 1 (falling apart ballet flats:1)
- never sewed on a button damn the flimsy haberdashery on that op shop coat.
 

I had a list, it's not on this computer, these are off the top of my head. However, I hope this is enough to sway you into seeing things from my perspective and this, ladies and gentlemen, is why I feel I am worthy of the #WorstGirlEver hashtag. Thank you for your consideration, and if you feel there is anything I have missed please don't hesitate to refresh my memory.