"My Flaws" Or "How Violet Dear Could Have Lost the Job Before she Even Got It."

Kevin and Trixie better watch out.

I was in a job interview on Tuesday, and I got the dreaded question: "What are two of your flaws?"

I made up some inspiring, secretly manipulative 'negatives that are actually a positive to you, potential boss' and went with those, but can you imagine if I'd been honest?

I do not think I would have gotten the job. Have a look.

*I am possessive of my ideas and hate it when people copy me - I know it's supposed to be flattering but it makes me batshit crazy.

*My bra and panties NEVER match. For instance – today? Red underwear patterned with nigiri sushi and an olive green bra with lace. It's like sad, unsexy Christmas, ladies and gentlemen.

*I build up my expectations that things will be exactly the way I envision them to be, and when they are not I am fixated on trying to swing them back to where I want them to be. I have been told that this is annoying.

*I don't work well with others.

*My voice carries. I'm like 'Til Tuesdays biggest nightmare up in here. I mortify X in restaurants all the time.

*As a little girl, I used to dress up my cats and dogs in doll clothes and strap them into a baby carriage. I still catch myself looking at Kevin and Trixie (my cats) and wondering....

*I call bullshit on casual friends and strangers a little too aggressively. I dated a compulsive liar for a brief while and it made me suspect everybody of telling tall tales.

*I probably should not be left alone with your baby because I might get all Liz Lemon and accidentally steal it.

*While you are talking I am writing in my head. No offense, I am sure you are interesting. It's just that I am more interesting and I sure like spending time with the poet I keep chained to the bed in my brain.

*Don't know how to whistle. Oh really? You think you can teach me? Why, you are simply the FIRST person EVER who has tried! Can't whistle. It's not affecting my quality of life. Get over it.

*I am missing important vaccinations because I actually cry whenever I get a needle. Right now I am about to get like, 3 and my breath is already starting to get hitch-y and my eyes are darting around looking for an escape route. I used to go and smoke in Junior High whenever we were supposed to get jabbed, so who knows what measles and rubella I am carrying..

*I'm kind of sarcastic. Kind of.

*Sometimes I have a drink so that I then can have a cigarette – that way I can keep up up the ruse that “I only smoke when I drink.”

*I have probably told Heppy or Xstina everything you have ever told me in confidence.

*I once knocked a sanitary napkin box off of the wall in the ladies washroom at the Lotus - with my head. X saw me laying on the floor and assumed I was vomiting, but then I reeled out of the stall and slurred “I hit my head on that thing.”
Stillettoes + Vodka =

*I'm a hotheaded loudmouth. At fifteen and while playing baseball, another team shouted “you suck!” at my team. I responded, in front of all of my teammate's mums and dads - “Yeah, well at least we don't swallow!” I wasn't sure what that meant. Apparently, it was something very offensive.

*I don't wash dishes very well. They are usually still kind of greasy – and here is the thing: I don't care.

*I am a firm believer in “what I don't know can't hurt me.” Therefore, I walk around the house nekkid with the blinds open, I eat food that has fallen on the ground and I don't care if you talk about me behind my back (and of course you do – I am a terror) – as long as I don't find out about it.

*Ever think “oh, I have no black socks clean, so I'll just pop these white ones on with my black shoes and no one will notice? (or other similar awful thing)” Oh yes. I will notice. And judge you.

*I let my cats do whatever they want. Like, Kevin sits on the counter while I cook supper, and sometimes I have to battle him to prevent him from stealing the ingredients. Trixie walks on my face every morning. I complain about these things – and then do precisely nothing to stop them.

*I dip my poutine in curried mayo. That's pretty wrong for a lot of reasons.

* I am a master – the best ever – at coming up with excuses to get myself and my friends out of doing things they don't wanna do. Long, beautifully crafted and completely plausible lies, ladies and gentlemen.

*I am a skilled rhetorician. This sounds like a good thing, but it basically means that I am going to win any argument we get in.

*I judge you on your grammar and spelling.

*I don't know how to drive. It's not just that I don't have my license – I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO MAKE CAR WORK.

*I have what I refer to as “spatial retardation” - I have problems with maps and left and right (and wrong) and I still tie my shoes using the 'two bunny ears method' and even then sometimes I have to start again. I didn't learn until I was 7. You know those 3D puzzles? Hot tears.

*I once ran over my cousin Matthew with a tricycle when he was learning how to walk. I was 4.

*I spend too much time writing lists. Clearly.

xox
Violet Dear