These are some taboo topics but I have absolutely no shame. Ever. And you’re a filthy liar if you don’t admit to at least four and a half of these.
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Buying new underwear to avoid laundry: Ain’t nobody got time–or quarters–for dirty clothes. In a pinch, there’s no harm in picking up a few extra pairs; it’s not like you won’t use them again. Except when you settle for $1 K-mart thongs made of what I believe to be spiderwebs. That “lace” disentegrates within hours.
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Pretending a burp is a hiccup: Sometimes I’ve even tried this while knowing it was a lost cause. What kind of hiccup starts off as a disgusting low rumbling sound and ends in a girlish high-pitched chirp? Mine, apparently.
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Shopping for outfits and imagining scenarios in which you wear them: “I’ll walk into the dimly-lit bar and they will all wonder who the mysterious girl in the dark blue dress is. But no one will ask. They will whisper to one another as I casually order a dirty martini, emphasizing the word “dirty” in my sultry voice.” And with that daydream comes the unnecessary $40 purchase of a dress you will never have an occasion to wear.
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Meticulously constructing a “messy” hairstyle: “Oh I look so gross today, I didn’t have any time to do my hair (except for the fifteen minutes of careful bobby-pin insertion).”
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Waxing: How else are we supposed to feel confident in our skimpy bikinis? We like to pretend that we are naturally smooth when the reality is every month, some lady aggressively rips a layer of skin and hair off our vajays for the sake of beauty. Yes, lifting and twisting your naked legs around to reach every angle is a humbling task, but you are not alone in this, get comfortable.
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Fake-tanning: After seeing a preview for one of the Final Destination movies involving tanning beds I decided never to attempt this, but I hear it’s big in SoCal…which brings me peace of mind, because how could everyone genetically be that same glorious honey-bronze color, including that one girl who I know is 100% Irish?
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Wearing “comfy” clothes: This stuff is bad. Like really ugly bad bad. High-waisted and baggy. Questionable smell. A massive coffee-stained t-shirt that says “Amsterdam Pub Crawl”. These are usually worn on shameful Sunday afternoons while watching re-runs of Sex and the City.
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Hiding tampons in your sleeve before heading to the bathroom: Please don’t fall out before I reach the stall…
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Thrift shopping just to say you went thrift shopping: “Yeah, this only cost me eight bucks.”–Yeah, it’s a hideous vest that no one likes–not even you. Should’ve spent that eight bucks on some Chipotle.
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Deeply loving The Lord of the Rings: Gandalf. Gollum’s raspy voice. The Shire. Samwise Gamgee. The taste of strawberries….Anyone? This last one could actually just be me. But that doesn’t mean you don’t have your own closeted passion. In fact, you’re thinking of it right now.