Yes, I read US Weekly, which was the inspiration for this list. I guess that’s #1, although anyone who has been to my house has seen thousands of back issues laying around so it’s really not a secret.
I don’t like cheese, except for goat cheese. I tolerate some other forms of cheese. It’s grody.
I really want to own a taco stand. But I live in a place where there’s a kajillion months of winter, so I probably never will. I also want to own a breakfast place, but I don’t get out of bed before 10 so breakfast would have to be at 2 pm, so there you have it. Ambition killed by laziness.
I love being on the road. My favourite trip is down the pacific coast highway, but I would love to just get an RV and drive all over the place. However, I have a deep fear of getting into a car accident, so I tend not to go anywhere at all.
I have a scar on my chin from when I was trying to get my papier mache parrot from Earls to school for our Brazilian booth at our school’s world expo day in jr. high. My mom wouldn’t drive me, so I had to try and balance it on my bike. Being the least physically adept person in the universe, I managed to let it slip and the tail went into the spokes and I went over the handlebars. I was rescued by a cute boy I liked, but unfortunately I was also right in front of my grandma’s house, so I had to go there to get cleaned up.
I want to be a luddite. I am pretty close; I treat my cell phone with a huge amount of disdain and I refuse to learn how to work remotes. I do love my laptop, but I try to not be at it all day. I am happiest when I can totally disengage from all forms of media and technology. The fact that I have a blog fills me with self-loathing.
I have a deep desire to stab someone with an epi-pen.
If I was president of the US, the first thing I would end is corn subsidies.
My middle finger on my right hand has been injured 3 times. Once by slicing it on an ice auger that my dad was sharpening on the kitchen table. Once getting caught in a chain on a tire swing and once playing volleyball. It’s crooked and has a scar on it.
I spend a lot more time than I should worrying. I am a certified google hypochondriac. Intellectually I know that worrying is unproductive, but it makes me feel more in control to worry. I am the person you want near you in a crisis, because I have already calculated everything that could go wrong in a situation and what I can do about it.
Facebook makes me jealous of everyone else’s life.
Random strangers tend to confide in me. If I wasn’t so emotionally unbalanced myself, I think I’d make a great therapist.
I am superstitious. I briefly considered not having a #13 ,but I realize that is just a fallacy.
I have an incredibly short attention span. It has taken me 3 days to come up with this list so far. Every hobby I start gets abandoned within minutes of my first setback or failure.
My perfect life would be one where friends drop in all the time to enjoy my domesticity. I have this vision of me whisking around the kitchen preparing my home grown vegetables and fresh pies while my pals sit at my kitchen table having coffee and my kids zip around. I realize that it is not 1950, and even if it was, that this version of life is totally unrealistic.
I love the early morning, but I am not a morning person at all. I wish I was. Sleep almost always wins me over.
Although I live well within driving distance of them, and most people I know adore them, I think the mountains are bullshit. I am a prairie girl.
I can’t drive standard for the same reason I can’t play most sports or dance or anything that would involve thinking and moving at the same time. I am too clumsy.. my brain just doesn’t operate that way.
I watch Steel Magnolias every single time I see it on TV, and every single time Sally Fields makes me cry. It’s the only sentimental moment I have when watching movies. I HATE tv and move romance.
I think the 24 hr news cycle, fueled by competition for advertising is the worst thing to ever happen to society. It totally wrecks public discourse. Twitter and similar phenomena are a close second. I don’t care which Starbucks you are at.
The thought of having to negotiate or cold call people to sell things terrifies me. Yesterday a door-to-door meat salesman came to my front door and I think that would have to be the worst job ever.
I have a lot of secret single behaviour… like snacking on weird combinations of food after everyone goes to bed. The other night I ate an entire can of herring and washed it down with orange juice. Then I ate 1/2 lb of concord grapes.
I am really, really, really bad with money, but I am obsessive about shopping around for major items to dicker for the best price. I feel really guilty making major purchases, like the dining room table I am procrastinating about right now.
I am secretly envious of people who are so comfortable with themselves that they can give their kids stupid names, be superfans of some sports team, get orgiastic over every holiday and just generally gung ho enjoy every aspect of their life unapologetically.