Ouch. Last night Sonic, Athena and I went to a fancy pants dinner. We drank a lot and there are stories for the blog, but next week. Right now, I am hungover, but in the interest of blogging more regularly I am forcing myself to post anyway. Here are your fun facts:
I am physically incapable of getting trash in the trash can This is probably the biggest bone of contention between my mother and I. I think that as long as the trash is in the general vicinity of the receptacle you are good to go. Apparently, not everyone shares this opinion. Just this morning Athena marveled in horror at the trash in my room with with the tissues, clothing tags and receipts all strewn around the floor. Whatever, it will make it into the trash eventually.
I refer to my bedroom as my lair My bedroom is in the back corner of my apartment and feels pretty isolated from the rest of the living space. It also is a giant mess and I keep the curtains shut 98% of the time, so it really does feel like some sort of wild animal den. The best part of my lair is my bed, or my nest, as I like to call it. When I lived with the Ferret, she kept all sorts of treasures in her bed, capri pants, her computer, phone, camera, wallet, wristlet, etc. She is tiny so she could still fit in the extra long twin bed with all of her worldly possessions. Sometime after I upgraded to a big kid bed I learned the beauty of this practice. Currently, my bed has 6 pillows, a box of tissues, a dress, a coat, my blowdryer, a coat hanger and some other stuff that I will unearth when i crawl back into it for the nap I plan to take this afternoon.
I am convinced I am at least a little psychic Don’t judge. It’s not like I am wearing psychedelic muu muus and weird stone necklaces, but sometimes I have these random thoughts and then all of a sudden they happen. Let me give you an example. When I was in high school my parents bought me a car and 2 weeks later I totaled it on the way to swim practice. They bought me another one and a few months later I was putting stuff into the trunk which I rarely ever do, when I had this weird thought about putting stuff in my trunk and then crashing my first car. I briefly thought what if I crash this one now, but decided I was being a weirdo and moved on. Not 20 minutes later I slammed car number 2 into another car. Also, sometimes I will get a weird song stuck in my head, I am talking Barry Manilow ‘Copacabana’ weird, and the next time I go to flip on the radio that song will be playing on whatever station the radio happens to be set to. I could go on with examples, but you’re all judging now anyway so I’ll just stop.
I am anti-pants There was a time when I was a pilgrim and was horrified by the thought of not wearing underwear and/or pants. At the risk of being scandalous, that time is over. Ugh, pants are the worst. Especially if you have eaten yourself into the meat sweats or polished off a keg of beer and they are all sorts of impeding your ability to sit comfortably and rub your belly.
I am the world’s biggest cryer Seriously, I cry at the drop of a hat. When I was 5 my dad took me to see All Dogs Go To Heaven, I sobbed. Similarly, Milo & Otis and the The Fox and the Hound left me a blubbering mess. Lately, I have been crying a lot watching Teen Mom. At least once a week, I call the Ferret, my mom or Boyfriend so hysterical about some nonsense that they can’t understand the ridiculous things I am telling them. It is all really quite terrifying, especially when I have been drinking.
There you have it. I am pretty much disgusting. Sorry ’bout it.