According to a quiz on
Facebook (
ahhh,
Facebook, I love you, I hate you. Nothing brings me more worried filled nights than wondering why some friend I had ten years ago won't confirm my friendship. Really, I don't need that kind of anxiety. And yet, I persist on going back for more rejection. What's even worse is finding someone you are so totally excited to find and you make a moron of yourself, but when they do respond they are just really, really over you and aren't at all as thrilled as you just told them you were) I am a terribly mysterious person. I think that's funny. Either you people are more obtuse than I am, which is saying something, or I really am an enigma wrapped in a mystery shrouded in a conundrum. So, here are the answers my so-called best pals got wrong, plus a few more.
1. I am scared of bridges. My personal hell would be living in Astoria. I don't understand how or why they stay up the way they do. And they sometimes collapse. You can tell me they don't, but they do. It isn't that I'm afraid of heights, I'm not, but their structure makes no sense. Am I the only one to notice there isn't anything under them keeping them aloft?
2. I don't like cucumbers. Well, it isn't that I don't like them,
perse, but they give me instant and severe nausea as soon as I take a bite. I find this weird indeed and if anyone can explain that to me, please do leave me a comment. But don't worry about me, if one is hidden under a Ranch laded crouton, I will be
ok.
3. I wanted to be an archaeologist as a child. I only changed my mind when someone told me very few get to dig up mummies, most sit around in a library doing research all the time. Which really shouldn't have discouraged me because I would love to sit around in a library all day. So maybe I will be an archaeologist when I grow up after all.
4. I cook to relax. I love cooking and baking, especially if the kids are right outside the window playing outside where I can hear their chatter and something wonderful is playing in my under-the-counter
cd player (lately the Los Lonely Boys). I love the ritual of it, the cookbooks, the smells, even the cleaning as I go which is a strange thing to love, but I do. Baking however is rather trying in Wyoming elevation: adjustments must be made and my cakes still fall flat. But my cinnamon oatmeal bread turned out yummy yesterday.
5. I hate sweet pickles. '
Nuff said. They're disgusting and not just because I can't eat cucumbers. I love the dill variety.
6. The nickname I dislike is Missy. Hated it ever since I was a kid. I think it may go back to my brother dating some chic named Missy and she was snotty. And they were always kissing around me, which was simply revolting. No little girl wants to see a close up of her brother's tongue; I need counseling just thinking about it. It's closely followed by "hey, aren't you Laryssa's Sister?"
7. My favorite musical is Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. It's simply the best.
8. I started my homeschooling journey in second grade for this reason: we were learning how to alphabetize and I couldn't understand it. I was not accustomed to not understanding things and I was not appreciating the feeling this gave me. The girl who finished her page first got to help the others who were lagging behind. The girl who finished first was a twerp (Aerie, think redhead...oh yeah, you know who I mean) and when I humbled out and asked her for help she gave me a sly smile and walked away. Now since my mother had been telling me she would be happy to
homeschool me if I was ever so inclined, I decided oh boy were they all going to be sorry when I never came back. And so I didn't ever go back. I can't promise you anyone was sorry though.
9. I don't how I could exist without books. I know, seems dramatic, but I am serious as a heart attack. I am a
ferocious reader and libraries are my favorite places. I read more books by the time I was 13 than most people probably read in their whole lives. I love the characters and the plots and the suspense and the smell of books. I love the look of books, especially antique ones. I love wondering who else has read the words I am reading. I love the legacy the writers leave behind. I love the stories that stay with you forever and change the way you think of things and the way those characters have a tendency to show up in the middle of your day or night like a drunk caller, 'hey, remember me? I love you, man!' I love laughing out loud when I am the only one in the room or getting misty over something. I stopped reading one time in my life: after the girls were both born. For probably three years I didn't read. I read a lot of parenting books, but reading about some stranger's opinion on the care and rearing of the children you gave birth to is more trouble than it's worth. To this day if I see a copy of "Parenting" magazine or hear something that reminds me of Growing Kids God's Way, I want to hide under the couch with a chocolate bar until the bad memories are stuffed back where they belong. I watched a lot of television since that is easier to do when nursing youngsters and folding laundry. But I didn't read. When I picked up something after those years, I think it was the Mark of the Lion series, I devoured it like a starving woman and haven't stopped since. Now that I think about it, I had a lot of post
partum depression symptoms after having Anna...
coincidence? You make the call.
10. I am not a confident person. All my life people think I am, to the point of even being intimidated by me which I find laughable, but it's all a show I put on. I am sincerely blown away when I act like I am supremely confident and IT WORKS. It's only in the past decade that I feel like I'm not such a disapointment to myself and I can stop pretending to be someone that I'm not. I think it's just part of the growing up process, and if that's what comes with being in your 30s I am excited to be here. I don't like everything about myself and I have plenty of insecurites, like my weight and my hair and my clothes and speaking in a group and making small talk and my house and not having a career and everything else that I think everyone else is whispering about but no one really is, but at this point I can honestly say I give up the need to apologize for it. There are lots of things you can not like about me, but I think I'll be ok. Unless you never confirm me on Facebook, which will leave me a quivering mass of unanswered questions, curled up in the fetal posistion sucking my thumb and despairing all night.
