Let me tell you a little bit about me:
- I walk really fast. I walk faster than someone with a 26 inch inseam has any right to walk. Chances are, if you and I are walking somewhere, i will beat you there with time for me to browse artisan breads and buy you a coffee. Boo ya.
- I compare myself to every female i see. I rank myself and everyone on some non-existent scale. This is not fair. Not to me or to the poor people who are beign ranked alongside me.
--- Related to ^ : I am constantly trying to find my body in the women who populate the world around me. I know what i look like but i can't accurately make any kind of objective observance of it so i try to find my "body twin" where ever i go and i ask the people i'm with "do i look like that?" I find that i'm often wrong when i think i've found someone who is shaped like me. Body dysmorphia much?
- Sour cream mixed with Brown Sugar is possibly the best compound food item ever. Ostensibly it's best for eating as a dip with strawberries or blueberries but it also works beautifully as an ice cream or, my personal favorite, on a spoon. Alone. Get away, you can't have any, it's mine.
- My knee is fucked up. I need to go to the doctor and have it looked at but i know that he's going to say i should stay off it for "x" number of weeks and, i'll be honest, i have things to do that in those "x" weeks that require the use of both my legs. Sigh. I'll likely regret this later.
- I can't wear Cloche hats. I've always just guessed that it's because my head is pretty freaking large but i think it must have to do with mygeneral face shape as well. I regret this fact very much because, hot damn, cloches are cute. With my head size i think i'm probably better suited for Rice Paddy hats.
- I play smarter than i am. I talk smart and i have a LOT of random little facts floating around my head and I have a good
vocabulary but if you scrape the surface you'll find that, really, i'm about as dumb as a box of rocks. A box of well spoken, moderately articulate rocks. Sure, i listen to NPR...sometimes. And I read the New York Times...okay, i skim the headlines but only read the articles about what ScarJo wore to the Tony Awards or the Kitten that reunited lost lovers in Iran. Try to engage me in a discussion about politics or even (shamefully) literature and i turn into the smiling, nodding, "oh-that's-interesting"-ing fool that i really am. I keep thinking that i should actually start READING the NYT or giving a damn about what's actually said on NPR instead of flipping over to my iPod when it's not CarTalk or The Splendid Table.
- I've never seen a Woody Allen film. I've never see "Fast Times at Ridgemont High". Although i watched "The Godfather" i missed the last 10 minutes because i fell asleep due to the fact that that film is like 6,097,142 hours long. I dislike most Mel Brooks movies. I have an abiding fondness for a wretched made for TV Disney flick called "The Girl Who Spelled Freedom". I've never seen all of "Blade Runner". I tried for a long time to dislike Cameron Diaz. I failed. I can, and have, watched "A Christmas Story" on endless repeat for 24 hours.
- My post-baby belly is a source of endless...something for me. The words i could insert: shame, annoyance, pride, floopiness, embarrassment, empowerment, meh-ness, inspiration, etc., etc., etc....
- Hey. Guess what? Chicken Butt. Hah. Still funny.