Nice Eyebrows Captain America

Warning: This blog post is comprised of entirely random thoughts that I feel compelled to share with you. 

A pick-up line not to try at home:

“Nice eyebrows.” Yes, that is the pick-up line that a man on the street said to me yesterday. Not “Hi, how you going?” or “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” (I get that one allllll the time. Hah.) but “Nice eyebrows.” Now granted, this man was not trying to pick-me up in the romantic sense; rather he was trying to get me to stop and donate money to a charity of sorts, which is perhaps even worse come to think of it. There’s no better way to make people feel all giving and generous than to compliment their eyebrows. Yes, you caught my attention but no, you did not make me want to stop and talk with you buddy. I can’t imagine this charity is raking in too many donations via their street team. Maybe next time try “Nice earlobes” or “Groovy nose hairs;” you may have better luck.

A new Aussie phrase:

Fair dinkum. This thought really belongs with my Happy 1 Month Anniversary To Me post, but I learned it afterwards so here it is now. Fair dinkum means legitimate. In the states we say “That’s legit” and here they say “It’s fair dinkum.” Now you can switch it up.

The most expensive item I have encountered that I refuse to purchase:

Mascara. Back in the states, I had a hard time forking over $8.00 for a wand of mascara. Oh how I would jump with joy to see that price tag now. The minimum you will pay for mascara here, and I’m talking about the exact same kind that we have in the states (Cover Girl, L’Oreal, etc.) is $23.00. Most that I have seen are pushing $30.00 though. Are you for real Australia?! You take away my pennies and now this? Or maybe I should be lashing out at the American companies who are making ridiculous profits in foreign countries. If that is the case, Australia you too are being robbed. Either way, I am aghast. I don’t know what I’m going to do because my rinky-dink tube is almost empty and I need to have long, black lashes to bat at my future husband when he walks through the doors at Summit, but I refuse to pay that much money for some black goop. I may have to bootleg the stuff. I have an idea! Let’s start a mascara black market in Australia. You all send me packages of mascara, any brand will do, and I will sell them for half of what they go for here and before you know it we will all be rolling around in Jaguars (or any luxury car brand of your choosing). Who’s with me?

Some "American" nicknames I have acquired:

Captain America. This is what one of my Irish flat mates calls me. I'm sorta fond of this one. I like it because a) it makes me chuckle and b) I secretly wish I was a superhero, and now I almost feel like one. I respond by calling him Captain Irish. Corny, I know, but he secretly likes it too.

Miss America. Got called this one while working at Summit. As much as I dislike the Miss America pageant, I will take it as a compliment.

Miss Liberty. What Natasha, one of the girls I work with at Summit, labeled me as in her phone. Apparently instead of putting people’s names in her phone (e.g. Sarah), she gives everyone nicknames so as to remember who they are and to avoid having multiples of the same name. I think if I did this I would only confuse myself more, but this method works for her. And so I am Miss Liberty, inspired by the Statue of Liberty in my home state of NY. I like this one too, it makes me feel empowered...and tall.