Sunday, March 16, 2008
I realize that I've been tagged. (Twice).
I also realize that no one really reads this blog anymore. I've been too lazy to prompt anyone to read it.
Maybe that will change.
The point is this: I'm supposed to divulge 10 very interesting facts about myself to you, the reader, and hopefully in a manner that will actually keep your attention for longer than 13 seconds. I have a lot of friends with ADD, so we'll see how this works.
Good, 'cause I'm not.
I'm a horrible channel surfer, largely because I don't like watching TV. I enjoy the noise, I enjoy the idea of TV... but the fact of the matter is that I'm terribly bored by it most of the time unless it involves blood and a scalpel. For this reason, I'm completely digging Discovery Health right now. I can watch back-to-back episodes of Mystery Diagnosis for 12 hours straight and still feel the need to persuade myself away from the tube.
The surgery shows are the best and I especially love that episode of Dr. 90210 when he performs genital surgery on that couple with the extra skin issues. I can't get enough of it. In that same vein, I briefly considered going to nursing school. Briefly. I might still consider it when I'm finished with this degree that I'm working on now. I could dig being a nurse for awhile...
I'm a recovering vegetarian.
It was never out of principle. I just realized one day that I really didn't enjoy eating meat and I seldom did. So why eat it at all? I eventually became the difficult one in the family that refused to eat any meat ever at the dinner table. The problem was, I didn't really eat vegetables either. In fact, I can remember a period of no less than three weeks at the age of 15 when I ate nothing but pasta. Aboslutely nothing. Pasta only. Three weeks. It was glorious.
Today, I enjoy quite a few things that I would have never dreamed of allowing past my lips 13 years ago. Grilled chicken breast, beef burgundy stew, even the occasional hot wing. I've been about 8 or 9 years in recovery and I'm proud to report that I'm doing quite well these days. I still eat very little meat and only about twice a week, but I'm making tremendous progress.
I never finished my undergraduate degree.
Well, actually, I never even started my undergraduate degree until two years ago, when I finally decided to leave politics behind forever and go to school. I've spent the past two years plugging away in classes at the local college while I make do with freelance jobs and babysitting. I was recently accepted to Moore College of Art & Design in Philadelphia, where I will be transferring in the fall.
I'm super excited about this. It will mean that I'm finally a college student for real.
Cross your fingers for me.
I have three dogs that I really don't like.
I used to love dogs. In fact, I think it's still possible for me to love dogs.
We had a dog growing up that I was positively in love with. His name was Shadow. He was perfect. Then Shadow died (rather unexpectedly), and my family felt the need to replace him immediately. I didn't not share with them in this need and have not stopped resenting it since. It seems that we keep getting new dogs in an effort to replace Shadow, and three times now it hasn't really worked out all too well.
I say we call it a day.
I secretly want the life of someone that I "hate".
Sarah Lewitinn has been a source of my frustration only in that I secretly desire to be a hipster and (not so) secretly envy her lifestyle. I'm friends with her brother, Lawrence, and although I've never met Sarah (aka: Ultragrrrl), in my dreams, I'm poking her with little needles that cause her eyes to bleed. And while I think that this is out of hate, in reality, it is out of jealousy. In reality, I believe Sarah to be an adorable if not too sweet young lady who seems to have a good head about her (especially when it comes to NYC bands). The parties, the wardrobe, the hair, the rock-star lifestyle... secretly, I wish it were me. That kills me.
Why can't I just be envious of the boring and ultra-ambitious people?
I talk to myself.
No. I talk to myself a lot.
You might be saying at this point: "no, really, I talk to myself a lot too"
But I guarantee that I talk to myself more than you do. I guarantee that I talk to myself an unhealthy amount. It's a bit embarrassing.
The culprit seems to be the car. Anything I'm in the car, driving alone, it's a sure thing; I will talk to myself.
I ask myself questions and answer them.I berate myself. I reassure myself. I scold myself and then justify to myself the very things I was being scolded for.
It's gotten so bad that I ignore myself. How many people can say that they talk copiously to themselves and find that still, no one is listening?! Friends, it's grown to the point of absurd.
I'm one of those people who is shamelessly obsessed with their nieces/nephews. One of my favorite things is to have iTunes dance parties with them. They totally rock my world. They kind of worship the ground I dance on and I'm not gonna lie: it's sort of nice to have such devoted fans - even if they are all under the age of 5.
I want to be a philanthropist. I realize how retarded this is: to wish I had tons of money just so I could give it away, but I never said I wasn't a total dork. I've devoted entire blogs to my supreme nerdy-ness. So there you have it: I want lots of money to give away. And to travel (because what's the sense in having tons of money if you can't have a little fun with it yourself)?
My feet are surprisingly large. I'm not all that tall (about 5'4", if I'm lucky), but somehow I ended up with these honking huge feet. They're deceiving, because I'm short. But the truth is that I'm packing a big ol' size 10 (sometimes 9, if I'm willing to squeeze). I know. You're shocked. Take a minute to collect yourself.
I've struggled to come up with 10 facts about myself. Seriously. I'm not all that interesting. But I did a great job of pretending, right?!
As far as tagging goes, I'll give it a shot. The God's honest truth is that I think I've lost just about all of my readers. So I'll take a shot in the dark and tag Alina, Pilar, Darling Cait, Mary Jo, and Elisabeth. We'll see if it takes or not.