The problem is, I’m just not a fan of “stuff”. Stuff clutters up my house. Stuff is the, well, stuff, that I am tripping over and trying to find a place for it to collect dust for a fair amount of time. I don’t like stuff. I don’t want dvds. I don’t want cds. I don’t want games. I just won’t use them and while the thought is nice, I have enough dust collectors, thank you very much.
I do like books, but I rarely know what I want until I want it. I like jewelry, but I like to buy pieces that I want. I like clothes, but really? Clothes are tough. Half the stuff rarely fits me and usually makes me look large and in charge. (Which, I am, however, I prefer reality-defying clothes. Find me some of them and you can buy as much as you’d like.)
What do I want for Christmas? More time for myself. A vacation. Money to pay down some of my debt. A new tattoo… or two… or three.
(Hard to wrap that kind of stuff, I know.)
So, I guess lacking any other ideas, go with the old standby: liquor and wine.
2. I really am not a fan of phone calls. I prefer email conversations. Hell, even a text message will do if it needs to be a constant back and forth. But a phone call? *ugh* How incredibly arcane. I don’t know why that is or when it got to be that point - I literally used to live with the phone glued to my ear as a teenager - just ask my mom, she’d love to tell you all about it, I have no doubt. But now? Again, *ugh*.
I think, in part, I owe this disdain to my ADD tendencies. I can multi-task through an email or text conversation. Phone conversation? You’re going to expect me to actually devote that entire time to just you. I mean, really? That’s asking for a lot. Including, but not limited to, having to turn down my too-loud music in the car and not sing along at the top of my lungs. Whatever you need to say? Can’t really be that important, right? Drop me a text.
(If I’m making time to talk to you on the phone? You’re welcome. And, you must be pretty awesome.)
3. I have ADD.
(Yes, my last entry just mentioned that - I don’t have short term memory problems.)
((Well, I do, but not *that* short.))
I was never diagnosed with ADD - and it’s certainly not ADHD because there’s not a damn thing about me that’s even remotely high energy - but I have managed to learn to live in my world of organized-chaos and I only survive by “multi-tasking”…. which is what I affectionately call my inability to focus on any one thing longer than a few moments without being distracted by something else.
(I have literally checked my email 3 times and my phone twice in the time I have been typing this - as well as taking a few moments to completely zone out to some Drowning Pool.)
((I am scared to think of what I could accomplish with some Adderall in my system.))
(((Seriously, just checked my phone, FB, and email again… what was I saying?)))
4. Whenever I walk down an empty hallway? I walk in the middle. And I have the insane urge to turn cartwheels and flips the entire length of the hall. I probably can’t do cartwheels any longer and I wasn’t ever able to do flips, yet, in my head? I’m freaking Mary Lou Retton. (or Keri Strug, take your pick.) Either way? cartwheel, flip, flip, double flip, stick the landing. 10.0 10.0 10.0 10.0 and 9.2 (the German judges are a bunch of haters.)
Fortunately (for myself and whatever unfortunate person would find my crumbled form in the middle of the hallway), I have fought this urge.
5. I have a love/hate relationship with food. I love it. I hate that I love it. I am powerless in its grips.
For real, you guys. It’s a sickness.
I love to eat. I fight the urge to eat almost constantly. Because, if I didn’t? I could be a hair under 600 pounds within the year.
One medical condition that makes my metabolism slow as shit running uphill and another that saps my energy on a daily basis…. you add an obscene influx of food to that combination?
Six. Hundred. Pounds.
(Someday they will remove me from my house on a forklift and none of you will be surprised as you’ve now been forewarned.)
((clearly I won’t be doing any cartwheels at that point.))
6. I like the idea of horoscopes. Not so much the “Today you will be surprised by a voice from the past. Beware of drafts, your health is at risk.” type of stuff, but more so the descriptions of the various signs. I fit many of the typical “Libra” traits and characteristics. A disproportionate number of my friends are Libras and Virgos. I have had some crazy chemistry with Leos. I just believe there is *something* to it. Although, who knows, maybe it’s just me trying to make sense out of a senseless world. Nothing wrong with that.
I will admit though - when I want to understand someone better or I am curious about them in general? I check out their sign. It can be very enlightening. Seriously.
7. Speaking of making sense out of a senseless world, I don’t buy in to organized religion. I don’t have any problem with people who do…. as long as they’re not selling their particular brand of religion my way. I’m not buying it. In fact, I’m not even in the market. Hell, I’m not even window shopping, so stop with the hard sell.
I’m not a Christian. Sorry, if that’s a problem, but it’s not for me. I dig JC. I’m sure he was a really good person with the most excellent intentions and love for his fellow man. However, I don’t follow him. Doesn’t make me a bad person - just as I don’t believe others who do follow him are inherently “good” - but it is part of who I am. I’m sure there will be, could be, likely should be, some sort of lengthy discourse on this - because believe me, I’ve come up against some interesting questions when I’ve had conversations with people about my beliefs, but…. that’s a blog post all it’s own.
8. I do, however, believe in reincarnation. So, yes, I also believe in an afterlife… it’s just not the Judeo-Christian version of it.
But, again, a blog for another time.
9. I love David Boreanez.
And Paul Rudd.
And Ed Robertson.
The absolutely most ironic/funny/perplexing thing to me is that I have - all my life - fallen for the blue-eyed blonds and redheads. Always. My husband? As Irish looking and freckled as they come.
10. I love what I do. But I don’t see myself doing it forever. Which, given the massive amount of student loans I racked up in reaching this point, might seem a little ill-advised. But, I just don’t. I don’t actually ever see myself doing any one thing for very long. I am a bit of a nomad - if not in actual domicile, then certainly in spirit. And I think if it were a viable option, I’d actually be a bit of a nomad in every way.
(Oh, or maybe more of a gypsy. Gypsies are all mystical and cast curses and stuff, right? Yeah, then I want to be a gypsy.)
((No mere nomad for this girl!))
I’ll do this for awhile though. Max out my post-grad education as quickly as possible, pay off my loans as I can, then pursue my PhD.
(yeah, you read that right: the foul-mouthed, inappropriate, gypsy-misfit is going to be a PhD, what of it?)
In my wildest dreams? Like, my when-I-hit-the-lottery dreams? I’d finish my PhD and open a therapeutic retreat for people with MS and their families. Make it all about holistic and spiritual health. On the beach, of course, because that’s my therapy right there.
(I know. My wildest, when-I-hit-the-lottery, dreams could use some work. I mean, really, how lame am I??)