I had to add an update…because I totally made Tim “look” like a short person in the # 1 (it’ll all make sense…promise)…it’s at the bottom – which is the most nonsensical place for an “update.” That’s why I’m telling you about it here. It’s like an advertisement, only without pictures.
Apparently, we’ve already forgotten that THESE ARE NOT AWARDS.
THEY ARE PUNISHMENTS.
It’s like saying to a kid, “It’s Saturday and I’ve got something fun for you! Go clean out the garage.”
Anyway, I received this “award-that-is-not-really-an-award” – aka “Honest Scrap” (which I’d like to rename Honest Crap) from Shannon over at lovedyoumore.
This one’s all about honesty…no threatening questions like the last one. At least that’s a step in the right direction. Here’s the little “official” picture…no idea where it came from…but maybe it looks familiar to you. It looks like it’s been hit with more than a few bullets…I guess I can’t really blame the shooter.
Can someone please give me a REAL AWARD? One that equals accolades and lots of recognition where the most I have to do is smile and give an acceptance speech? I’d *really* like one of those kinds of awards.
So, honest little bits and pieces about me…other than the fact that I’d really like a REAL AWARD…that I haven’t already shared…hmmmm…
It took me awhile thirty minutes to come up with anything because I lay it all out here EVERY DAMN DAY…I bear my heart and soul…I give out lots of information that even the mailman doesn’t know about. And that’s saying something because the mailman is privy to EVERYTHING.
Anyhow, I’ve stalled long enough…here we go:
10. I really suck at having friends. There are MANY people I’d love to be friends with…both via cyberspace and regular space…but I am THE WORST at keeping in touch, following up, sending condolences or congratulations…making plans…anything that would maintain a friendship…I suck at. So, more than likely, you are just one of those people…and I want to be your friend…I just don’t know how. I need a starter-friend who is willing to like, yell at me when I don’t respond or when I act like a complete moron in a public setting.
9. That last one might be tied to the fact that, as a child, I was PAINFULLY shy. I wouldn’t go over to my little friend’s houses…I’d actually start crying at the thought of leaving my house or being away from my house. I preferred to play outside with my brother over my friends. That shyness stayed with me through college. I got over the whole “away from home” thing as a kid but I didn’t make any lasting friendships in college because I never opened up to let anyone get to know me. Ever. So weird, now that I think about it…because those who read this blog probably know more about me than those who spent almost every day of the year with me during college…in the flesh.
8. I DESPERATELY want to be a good singer…but I suck. I’ve tried. I’ve even recorded myself to try and see where it goes wrong. The answer? The first damn note. But to be able to belt out a song…ANY SONG…and have people say I sounded amazing…that I had an incredible voice…it is my dream that will never be realized. Unless they do complete vocal chord replacement surgery. Then maybe I have a shot.
7. Second to my desire to sing is to have a hot model body. Tim always tells me people would kill for my body…I think he’s just being nice…waaay too nice. I know I’m not overweight but I’m not thin as a rail nor am I like, rock solid in all areas. Again, Tim says these extremes are unattractive. I say look at a magazine. Any magazine. Actually, check out any form of public media. Fat people Any normal person with more than 2 ounces of fat and five freckles are only the main attraction if they’ve lost weight, are losing weight, are having some crazy experiment done on them or have so much fat on their bodies that it required something so drastic it became interesting. And NEVER do they show overweight people as sexy, desirable women. EVER. It’s crap. But it’s also twisted my mind, I’m well aware…it doesn’t stop me from wanting it though…my problem is that I like dessert too much. Damn the person who invented baked goods.
6. I like to pretend that Tim and I are like, super important when we’re travelling somewhere. I have no idea why…but it really comes out if we’re doing something that has us in first class seats, a classy hotel or being transported in a Lincoln Towncar. It’s like I want people to notice us…and for them to wonder what it is we do for that kind of treatment. It’s totally snobby and unrealistic because we’re probably the most uninteresting people on the planet. I think part of me hopes that one day I won’t BE pretending. Ok, I’m being a snobby bitch again. Moving on.
5. Little noises REALLY bother me. I mean, they make my insides boil like Elmer Fudd where his face gets all purple from sheer frustration because Bugs keeps outsmarting him. It will get to the point I become so agitated I’ll explode if they don’t IMMEDIATELY CEASE THE NOISE. The noises can be anything from someone snoring to having some random, dry booger stuck in your nose that makes a whistling sound when breathing or smacking gum or drumming a pen on a desk… It makes me CRAZY and I’ll continue to give them the evil eye all, “STOP MAKING THAT NOISE. I’m warning you. It will not be pretty if you continue to whistle FROM YOUR NOSE.” Sometimes I actually vocalize my irritation in a loud, audible huff. Now, in their defense, these people usually have no idea that they’re even MAKING a noise…but I hear it…and it drives me INSANE.
4. Since forever, in order for me to feel like I’ve had a successful, productive day, I must do something that caused me to sweat – like running or lifting weights or climbing to the top of a mountain. It goes back to having basketball practices 6 days a week for YEARS…so now, if I have days where I do absolutely nothing that is physically active, I feel like my entire day has been wasted.
3. Though I secretly shun Martha Stewart, I actually LOVE her. I want to have our house be like a Martha Stewart house…all neat and clean and pretty. I look through the home magazines every single time I’m at the grocery store with envy…even the one’s with the amazing spreads of food on the cover that look like it took a month to create or the one that always has the super cute decorations for the holidays…but I refuse to get a subscription because I’m ashamed of anyone knowing I want that…the “white picket fence” life. (That totally sounds like something that should be on Post Secret…and that’s really scary).
2. When I’m really, really hungry, I’m a total bitch. Stay away from me unless you have food. I’m serious. I’ll rip out your eyeballs if you walk up all, “let’s sit down and have a nice cup of tea” when all I want to shovel cookies into my mouth. I think this also goes back to #10…why I have no friends.
1. When I started my dating life, I refused to date anyone shorter than me. EVER. It was like an unwritten rule I NEVER BROKE…because dating someone shorter than me was embarrassing and just…wrong. It didn’t feel right. I broke this rule only ONCE…and I ended up marrying him. How’s that for poetic justice?
***Update for # 1 ***
I’m amazon woman tall, remember? Towering at 5’10…but it’s not like I married a midget or something. Tim is 5’9.
Not that I have anything against midgets.
I think I’m supposed to call them Little People.
Damn…not “them” like “them” is some discriminatory category…those that are shorter than average…Little People.
I realized I *might* have offended any little people by capitalizing the L in little and the P in people.
I really have nothing against short or tall people…or regular, average people…
I’m going to stop now because I’m just digging myself a deeper hole.