- I don’t care for the arts. I like rock music and photography and movies. I don’t care much for art, sculpture, theatre, museums. Buffy is probably my favourite telly show ever. If given the choice between a free orchestral concert in the park or staying in with my guitar and YouTube, the latter would win every time. Call me a Philistine.
- I know feminism is about choice. I believe choosing homemaking is just as valid as choosing a career and if you decide to go to Blepharoplasty Los Angeles, I should not smirk and have that internal dialog, but I do. A tiny part of me is disappointed when I hear you changed your name after marriage. (Logical or not!) Which is every single person I know who is a newly-wed or newly-engaged or heck, even just in a LT relationship but already planning the wedding – most recently, a coworker who had a really cool surname, but no longer.
- I don’t actually know how to clean a toilet or an oven. These strike me as vital adult skills to have, but I’ve always just made it up as I go along.
- I know I should spend my free time – and my downtime at work – reading about my industry, furthering my education, bettering myself. But I don’t. And I don’t really want to. I read personal blogs and novels, learn 80s and 90s rock songs, bake artery-clogging munchies and watch movies.
- I have a bit of an obsession with food. I need to have my lunches mapped out for days and little things like forgetting to take the chicken out of the freezer to defrost before dinner completely mess with my day. I’m pretty sure I spend as much time thinking about food as men apparently think about sex. And when it comes to things like salsa flavoured cornchips, I cannot stop until the bag is empty. Gluttony is my biggest weakness.