She shrugged, then started to slip her hand into a back pocket. "Okay, Banana. I'm not Vulcan. I'll show you." Out came a pocket knife that was clearly an antique, and she pulled the blade out, and held up her hand. She dragged the knife across her palm; the wound was healing as soon as she pulled the knife away, and was closed before any blood even spilled. "That's the best proof I can give ya. I was born in 1990."