just call me seven

My Interview With Marriage-101
So, Neil from Citizen of the Month has instigated the Great Blogger Interview Experiment. Go read his post so you know what this is all about (I’ll wait).Back? Okay, so I interviewed Schmutzie, and Liz from Marriage-101 interviewed me. So here it is.
This was a great experience, and I would say, do it. It’s fun, plus who doesn’t love new blog fodder? Without any further ado, the interview:I know you’re a big movie buff. What is your all-time favorite movie and why? Or, if you blogged about this and I missed it, please tell me your all-time favorite actor/actress/director and why.

Ooh, that’s a hard one. I have a hard time picking a favorite… I love so many. Some of my favorites are typical girl movies, like Pride & Prejudice, You’ve Got Mail, Emma, etc. But one of my very favorites is The Kid. It’s such a powerful story about learning to let go of the hurts you’ve received, and learning to stop believing things that aren’t true. It was really eye-opening for me to see the character that Bruce Willis plays yelling at his younger self (played by Spencer Breslin) and telling him that he’s fat and stupid and pathetic. It strikes me as mean, but that’s exactly what I do to myself. I tell myself that I’m dumb and ugly and that nobody likes me, but that’s not true. Bruce Willis learns a lot about learning to love himself, and is able to let go of some of the wounds he received as a child, which in turn enabled him to love other people and stop being a jerk. So it ends on a hopeful note, and I love that.

What is your dream job?

My dream job… I’m still trying to figure that out. When I was younger and people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, my answer was always that I wanted to be a mom. And I know that when I am a mom, it will be my full-time job, because I believe that kids need to have their mom around. In the meantime, however, I do need to have a job. Right now I work for my parents doing bookkeeping for their company Oregon Cookies. I like the flexibility that it provides, since I get to work from home (yay for pajama work), but bookkeeping isn’t something that I really love… or even really like all that much. But I don’t really have any ideas about what else I’d like to do with my life. I like to make stuff, like earrings and other random things (see my website or my etsy store), but I’ve never sold anything, so it’s not really a viable means of generating income. So I guess I kind of have two dream jobs: 1) Motherhood, and 2) Makin’ stuff.

I see that you’re still single (which should be a crime!): what is your ideal boyfriend?

I have a lot of qualities I’m looking for. The first would be that he loves the Lord. I’m a Christian, so if he’s not, then we wouldn’t have the most important thing in common. The second would be that he has to be someone I could see myself marrying, because I’m not interested in scattering pieces of my heart all over Oregon. I’ve been on two dates in my life(both with guys I’ve been friends with for a long time and was not/am not now romantically interested in), and both times I was worried that things would become weird or awkward, or that we wouldn’t be able to be friends anymore. So I have decided that I really don’t want to put myself in that place unless it’s someone I could marry. And for someone I could marry, I have a really long list of things I’m holding out for, which I won’t post here. The long list is because I know myself, and when I have a crush on a guy, I don’t think clearly. I prayed about it, and thought on it quite awhile before I wrote it down, and I believe that someone out there fulfills the whole thing, and he’s going to be worth the long wait.

Why did you start blogging?

I started blogging on MySpace in 2005. I was living in a two-bedroom house with 3 other girls and I was the least busy, so I had a lot of free time. I’ve always been a homebody, and with no one else around, I had to find something to do. And you can only watch so many movies in a day, right? I guess I started blogging because I’ve always been able to think more clearly and communicate more eloquently when I’m writing or typing, as opposed to trying to make my squirrelly tongue say what I want it to. I’m pretty introverted, so when I talk to people, I’m easily flustered. I always end up feeling like I didn’t quite say what I meant to, or I wasn’t able to make the other person understand, and then I feel even more awkward than I already do at any given moment. (I hate feeling awkward… I hate watching other people feel awkward too. It’s like a physical pain, even just to watch.) So when I’m typing, I’m able to say what I actually mean to say, and I feel like I communicated something, rather than just being a fountain of weird noises that don’t make sense. Sometimes I read what I wrote, then go back and edit it before I publish, but for the most part I don’t need to. The simple fact that no one’s waiting on me to finish my sentence gives me immense freedom. So I can say things that I would never be able to say to someone’s face. And that relieves some of the pressure of all these thoughts that float around in my head. I only started this blog in November of 2007… I was hungry for something new, and I wanted to start fresh, to write something that I didn’t need to censor as much, since no one I knew even knew it existed.

I see that you’re 26 and in one of your posts, you didn’t seem to happy about it. Why? Did you think your life would be different at 26 from what it is?

I really am not one of those people who is always worried about becoming old. I think it just hits me every once in awhile. 25 was a hard birthday too, in that sense. I guess it has something to do with the fact that I sort of feel like maybe I should have my act together by now, like I should have a job that pays me enough to have my own house, or I should be married and have a couple kids, or something. When my parents got married, they were 23 and 19. My mom was 21 when she had me, and by the time she was my age she had 3 kids and another on the way. When I was little, I always used to think that I would probably be the same way, especially since my only ambition, career-wise, was to be a mother. So I guess sometimes I feel like my life is slipping away, and I haven’t even started living it yet. I’ve been trying to figure out what I’m supposed to do… what if I don’t ever get married? I’ll have to do something with my life. Even if I do get married, I would like to be a whole person who’s not just waiting for a husband to come complete me. But I have no idea how to do that, so I feel a little despondent. I don’t even know where to start, which makes me feel like I’m hopeless. So yeah, I feel a little bit depressed about how my life is right now. I wish it was something else, but I’m not sure what that something else should look like.

Do your friends/family know about your blog (and read it?)

My youngest brother knows about it and reads it. He is a computer geek (Hi, brother!) and he helps me if I want to do something that’s beyond my (very limited) scope of HTML knowledge. My little sister knows about it, and sometimes reads it. She has it on her little Google Reader thing, but she never checks it. My mom and dad know that it exists, I think, but I’m pretty sure they don’t read it, and I’m pretty sure neither of my other two brothers even know about it. None of my friends know about it, that I know of. I would only suspect one (maybe two) of them to be capable of finding it, but nobody has said anything yet, so who knows. It’s kind of freeing this way, though, which is why I haven’t told anyone about it. It’s not a secret, but… I’m not going to be spreading the word. If that makes any sense.

If you could meet anyone – dead or alive – who would it be?

Probably Jesus, but not in the way that means I die. I falter in my faith all the time, and sometimes I’m afraid that he doesn’t love me… that maybe I try so hard to be saved, but I’m not. It would mean a lot to be able to look in his eyes and ask him if he really does love me… I think it would help me keep on truckin’ when all I feel like doing is giving up. I don’t know if other Christians feel that way. Maybe they don’t, or maybe they’re just better at hiding it. All I know is I’m sick of putting on my game face, all the while dying inside.

What has been the happiest day of your life so far?

Hmm… man, this one’s hard. I am naturally a little pessimistic, so I tend to find the clouds amongst the silver linings. Maybe the day my soon-to-be roommates asked me if I wanted to live with them. They were all three living in this tiny little two-bedroom house, and my friend invited me over one night. He told me that they were going to have dinner and worship, and would I like to come? I wasn’t sure what it was all about… I thought that it was a married couple’s house, and they were having a dinner party or something. I asked him if it was really alright if I came, and he said, of course. So he gave me the address and I made it there, and then their neighbor came out while I was parking and told me not to park where I was. I was already a little nervous when I was driving over there, and that lady sure didn’t help. I made it to the door alright, and when I went inside, there was this crowd of people who were all just hanging around and talking, and the girls who lived there were in the kitchen cooking spaghetti to feed all of these people. I had met the girls a couple other times… my brother lived with my friend who invited me, so sometimes I’d stop by to see my brother and they’d be just leaving or whatnot. But I didn’t know them really at all, except for their names. So we all ate dinner, sitting on couches and the floor, and then one of the girls and my friend who invited me there busted out guitars and we all sang worship songs. A bunch of people left when we were done singing, but a bunch of us sat around on the kitchen floor and talked until midnight or so. The girls invited me to come back the next week (they did this thing every Tuesday), and I drove home. When I got home, I told my mom all about it and told her that that was the sort of place I’d like to live in someday. The next week, one of the girls called me on Tuesday afternoon to make sure that I was coming. I said yeah, and she sounded really excited. When I hung up, I was sort of like… huh. It didn’t seem like such a formal place that they needed to count who was going to be there… oh well. So I headed over at 7 or so, and after I’d been there for about a half an hour, they told me that they needed to talk to me, and ushered me into the back bedroom. I was really nervous… I’ve always hated that phrase. I was sure they were going to tell me my pants had a hole in the butt or that my fly was undone or something. We all sat on the bed that was in there, and they all looked like they were about to burst. I said, What is it? And they were so excited that they took turns saying one word at a time: We. Were. Thinking. About. Adding. Another. Roommate. What. Do. You. Think? And I said, You want me to live with you? And they all nodded and giggled, and I giggled a little bit too. Then I told them that I would have to think about it, and make sure that I could afford it and stuff, and I told them I’d give them an answer next week. The next week I told them I’d move in, and I moved in the following Saturday. It was a really fast journey from barely knowing them to living with them, but the years I spent in that house were precious, and they’re all such very dear friends now. The original three all eventually moved out, one by one, and each time God would bring just the right person. All told, 9 girls, including me, lived in that house. And it all started with that one night of excited girls giggling out one word at a time. (Man, that’s a long paragraph.)

What was the saddest?

Probably the day my (now sister-in-law) roommate told me she was moving out of our house. She told me via voicemail when I was stranded in the Las Vegas airport, and the next day I found out that my brother asked her out. I was sure we weren’t going to be friends anymore, that my brother was going to steal her away, and I was right for a time. Our relationship grew to be really rocky and painful. I had been really close to my brother, and really close to her, but once they started dating they hung out with each other instead of me, and it hurt. I handled it badly, and so did they, but I think those wounds have healed. We’re really close friends again now, but man… those days were dark.

What do you think is the coolest thing about blogging?

I’ve mentioned it before, but I think for me the coolest thing about blogging is ease with which words pour out of me. It won’t happen if I ever meet you in person, but I’m able to spill my guts with such honesty and clarity when I type or write that it’s therapeutic. I think it helps me process to see it all in black and white in front of me, too. I’ve always kept some sort of journal or diary sporadically, but I type much faster than I write, which helps me get my thoughts out, because I think faster than I can write. I think faster than I can type too, but at least it’s faster to type than write. I think that even if someday I want to keep some sort of private journal that no one’s allowed to read, it will probably just be a text document that will grow until it crashes my computer or something, because it kills my hand to write as much as I would like to.

Thanks so much, Liz, for your questions. It’s nice to be asked stuff instead of just having to think of something to say.



After a dearth of posting from me, two in one day!  Not too shabby.  Too bad neither of them are real posts.

I stole this from Meg Fowler… it just seemed interesting.

Lemon or lime?  Lime.  All things lime are wonderful.  Though lemon is amazing too…
Edamame or corn on the cob?  Corn.  But cut off the cob… I have this tooth thing… I hate having stuff stuck in them.
Curries or jambalaya?  I’ve never had jambalaya, but I love me some curry.
Papaya or mango? Mango, mango, mango.  I would kiss (on the cheek) the person who would give me a mango this week.  I love mangoes, and I haven’t had one since the summer.  Poo.
Coffee or tea?  Coffee.  Tea is just dirty leaf water.
Still or sparkling water?  Still… but Talking Rain has this new (I think) flavor, Lime Mojito… heaven.  I’ve always said that if I was going to drink, I would drink a mojito.  I once invented a drink at the coffee shop where I used to work that was a Mojito truffle… mint & lime syrups & chocolate sauce=yummy.
Lobster or crabcakes? Not sure… not much of a seafood fan.  Maybe lobster?
Stew or stirfry?  Stirfry.  If I believed in reincarnation, I’m pretty sure that I would have been Asian in a past life.  Seriously.  I can’t get enough of it.
Vinaigrette or ranch/creamy dressing?  Vinaigrette all the way.  Ranch is only for dipping.
7-UP or Coke? 7-Up.  But I’d rather have Dr. Pepper, or Pomegranate 7-Up.
Bell peppers or carrots? Peppers… Carrots sometimes make my throat itch.
Milk or soy milk? Regular.  Soy makes my throat itch too.
Nacho or potato chips? Potato… mmm…
Lettuce or spinach? A mix of both, thanks so much.
Gummi bears or licorice? Gummy WORMS.  They’re better.
Potatoes or rice? Can I have noodles?
Sourdough or multigrain? Oooh… I love both.  No white bread for me unless it’s fermented, baby.
Chocolate or vanilla?  Usually vanilla, but it depends on what it is.
Sushi or teriyaki? Teriyaki.
BBQ or pizza?  Pizza, unless it’s hot wings.  I love me some hot wings.
Olives or pickles? Both.  I love both.  You know what’s really good, that I thought wouldn’t be?  Pickled green beans.  They’re my new favorite.
Sandwich or salad? Depends on the sandwich.  Probably salad.
Roast chicken or roast beef? Chicken.
Hot fudge or caramel? Caramel.
Risotto or pasta? I’ve never actually had risotto… I’d like to.
Apple pie or lemon meringue? They both have their place… I’d have to base it on what was for dinner.
Appetizers or dessert? Dessert… I have a huge sweet tooth.
Grapes or berries? Strawberries.  Grapes are okay, and I really don’t like any other kind of berry… it’s weird, I know.
Ice cream or sorbet? Ice cream… with big chunks of candy in it.

In Which I Spill My Guts, Just A Little Bit.

Day Nine of LaBloShoeMo. This is only my eighth pair of shoes. However, I am not about to be legalistic about the whole thing, so that’s that. It’s hard to be all girly and excited about shoes when you don’t feel anything like a real person, let alone a girly-girl.

These flipflops, I bought at Wal-Mart (I know, I’m the devil) for two bucks, at the end of summer like 3 years ago. I loved them so much (because they were squishy and conformed to my feet) that I went back to buy more pairs, but they had sold out, to my great dismay. I proceeded to wear them for three years, and I still own them. But I don’t wear them very often, because I happen to think it’s a bad thing when you can feel the cracks in the sidewalk. Through your shoes.

They’re so cute, though, that I can’t get rid of them just yet.

So they languish in my shoe bucket, passed over time after time for a better pair, a prettier pair, a pair that works better or a more practical pair.

On a completely unrelated note… I am so tired of being fake. If I have to tell one more person that I’m doing “pretty well,” I just might scream. I hate that our culture (and more specifically, the church) puts so much pressure on everyone to be this perfect specimen of life and love and happiness. Revelations of doubt, self-loathing or temptations are met only with shock and disappointment. Pleas for help hit the brick wall of an expectation of perfection that, let’s face it people, can NEVER be attained this side of Heaven.

I’ll get really honest: I struggle to believe that I’m really saved. I’m afraid that somehow, despite my intense desire to know and love the Lord, I am not one of the elect. I’m terrified when I consider what my life would be like if I never get married, if I am doomed to be alone for the rest of my life. And people say that “if God calls you to that, He will fulfill you,” but I have a hard time believing that. Because you know what? If I’m really honest, God doesn’t feel real to me. I don’t hear His voice; I don’t have confidence that when I die, I’ll hear “Well done, good and faithful servant;” I’m afraid of death; I wonder when everyone is going to figure out that I’m a fake, that I’m not that good Christian girl who reads her Bible day and night and prays without ceasing, who, when her phone rings with the “Jesus Loves Me” ringtone, answers with a hearty “Praise Jesus! How ya doing?” The list goes on. I am full of insecurities and devoid of the smallest shred of confidence that anyone would actually like me if they knew the real me.

But it gets old to always be the downer, too. Because I’m afraid that no one would ever want to be around me if I showed my true colors; I hate to be that girl who is always depressed, the one whom you avoid when you see her coming because you know if you don’t that you’ll be subjected to an endless litany of all her problems. I guess I figure that if people are going to be nice enough to put up with me when I’m around, I might as well do them a favor and at least attempt to appear okay, so they don’t have to deal with the mess that is me.

Some facts:

Fact: I love to sing, and while I feel my voice has gone downhill in recent years, I think it sounds pretty good; at least that’s what I’m told. I sing at church a couple times a month, and I would love to do it more, except I am certain that people would think that I think I’m hot stuff, which isn’t true. So people ask me why I’m not singing in the choir, and I come up with lame excuses like that I’m too busy (I work 15 hours a week. I have like 21 hours to kill every single day) or that I don’t know, when I know perfectly well why. It’s because I am so worried about protecting my Good Christian Girl alter-ego that I can’t do anything that I think might jeopardize that, like making people think that I’m vain and love the sound of my own voice. (Fact [since I’m being all honest and stuff]: I am vain, and sometimes I do love the sound of my own voice.)

Fact: I worry that no boy will ever love me (Fact: I worry that girls don’t love me either).

Fact: I feel like I am a disappointment to everyone I come in contact with: I make mistakes in my work; I am jealous of other peoples’ happiness instead of rejoicing with them (which makes contact with happy people sometimes awkward instead of joyful); I tell Smalls, when she asks me to do something with her, that I don’t feel like it and promptly go back to my dinking around on the Internet, doing nothing of importance and worrying my mother with the amount of time I spend on this life-sucker; I don’t respond well when my dad tells me stuff; I don’t ever call my siblings who don’t live here; I don’t call my siblings that do live here; I don’t call my friends; I come across as rude (I know I do, and I can’t seem to stop it) to people I don’t know very well, because I am so uneasy in social situations that I can’t even answer questions with much more than a two- or three-word sentence, and then can’t think of anything to say/ask in reciprocation, so an awkward silence falls, while I die of mortification because while I know I’m being rude, I have absolutely. nothing. to. say. ever.

Well. I think I’ve said quite enough, and I will probably regret being this open in the morning, but I am sick to death of putting my little mask on and pretending that I don’t cry myself to sleep on a regular basis. I’m not looking for affirmation, so don’t feel like y’all (if anyone actually reads this) have to clog the comment form with gushes of nice things to say about me. I just wanted to spew all this out so that I can start to be a real person instead of just a cardboard cutout.

In Which I List Things I Love.

Things I Love:

Song I love: “Yes You Have” by Leeland, or pretty much anything by Leeland. “Inflammatory Writ” by Joanna Newsom (the video has two bad words… so beware).

Food I love: Pad Thai. Hummus. Falafel with yogurt/cilantro/jalapeno sauce. Basically anything foreign.
Thing I love to look at: Pretty things. The dresses in Pride & Prejudice. Anything that’s green or brown or a pretty color of blue. This:

“Wind” by Steven N. Meyers

Sound I love: A baby’s various noises. Music. Pippy’s giggle.

Thing I love to laugh at: Other people laughing.

Gadget I love: iPods.

Person I love: There are so many… I don’t even know where to start.

Software I love: The Gimp. Like Photoshop, only free.

Word I love: “Pwn‘d!”

Thing I love on the internet: Social networking sites.

Place I’d love to go on vacation: Ireland. Thailand (without the lame consequences Alice endures in Brokedown Palace). Great Britain. Indiana.

Sensation I love: Back massages.

Animal I love: Puppies of all kinds.

Book I love: Princess Academy by Shannon Hale

Emotion I love: The kind that makes you cry because you’re so happy.

Occasion I love: Christmas. My birthday. Other peoples’ birthdays.

Quality I love in people: Kindness. Humor. Love.

Thing I most love to shop for: Used clothing… I love me some Goodwill.

And finally…

What I love about today: I took a shower for the first time in waaay too long, and I got perfume samples in the mail, so I smell pretty.

(Courtesy of Meg, whose blog I just started reading)

In Which I Reveal Yet More Inane Facts About Myself.

[1.] Where was the first time you ever kissed the last person you kissed?
When she was born. It’s my sister, people.

[2.] What’s the greatest thing that happened to you today?
Uh… I discovered that the pants I’m wearing, which I haven’t worn in almost a year, aren’t as small on me as I had previously thought they were.

[3.] How many best friends do you have?
Just one. But I have many REALLY GOOD friends.

[4.] Would you rather get up early or sleep in?
Sleep in. Sleep like the dead and never get up. Oh my gosh. I hate getting up early.

[5.] Tell me where you got each article of clothing you’re wearing?
Pants: Resurrected from my closet (originally purchased… at Ross, I think); Shirt: On sale for like three bucks at that fancy little boutique known as Tar-zhay; Sweatshirt: Goodwill. As you can tell, I am one classy dame.

[6.] What’s the closest thing to you that is brown?
The desk upon which my dad’s laptop rests.

[7.] What would you change about your life right now?
Don’t even get me started.

[8.] Would you rather smile over a lie or cry over the truth?
Cry over the truth… oh wait, I do that anyway.
But I do smile at lies if they’re funny, too.

[9.] What’s on your bedroom floor right now?
Some furniture and a few pairs of shoes. And some scraps of paper from a little-kid craft I did last night which I tried to throw away and missed the trash can… then left there all night and all day today.

[10.] Who was the last person you got into an argument with?
Uh… I try to avoid arguments… the last time was, like, a long time ago. I can’t even remember it.

[11.] Do you trust people?

[12.] If you could move away, no questions asked, where would you move?
My husband’s house… once I find out where that is.

[13.] Have you ever been out of the country?
Thanks to The Croodler’s Quasi-Girlfriend & her family, I have been to Canada. For eight hours.

[14.] Could you go a day without eating?
I have… I get a headache and become all cranky.

[15] Finger food?
Yes, please.

[17.] When was the last time you had your hair cut?
The last time I GOT my hair cut was at the end of my Indiana trip… around the middle of August. The last haircut I obtained, I gave myself, and didn’t do too bad a job, if I do say so myself. It had to be done… my hair wouldn’t stand up in the back anymore.

[18.] Would you rather be mad or sad?
Doesn’t matter. Either way, I’ll be crying.

[19.] Does it take a lot to make you cry?
Nope. Me and crying are like this [intertwining fingers].

[20.] What’s the best feeling in the world?
Someone massaging my head. Mmm… I could endure that for hours.

[21.] Are you close with your mom?
Heck yes I am. We’re buds.

[22.] Are your parents strict?
Eh. Not anymore.

[23.]Do you tell your parents everything?
Pretty much.

[24.] Would you rather be a bird or a fish?
Fish are gross. But so are birds. I’d rather be really really ridiculously good-looking. Is that shallow?

[25.] Name one fear you have.
I completely concur with The Quas… Being completely alone. Ick. People aren’t meant to do that.

[26.] If you need to go to the store a block away, do you walk or drive?
If there was a store a block away, I’d walk. There used to be a store two blocks away, and my brothers and I would walk all the time. Of course, we were only walking there to buy candy, and none of us drove at the time…

[27.] Does the thought of marriage scare you?
The thought of no marriage scares me.

[28.] How many kids do you want?
As many as I can get my hands on.

[29.] What’s your favorite color to wear?
Green or black or brown. Or blue. But not navy blue.

[30.] Who was the last person in your bedroom besides you?
Mom and Pippy.

[31.] What are you doing today?
I am planning on not doing much. I’m already done with my work, so I’ll probably read some blogs (I love Google Reader) and read a book or two… eat some food… hang out with Pippy. The uszhe.

[32.] Would you rather be rich & sad or poor & happy?
Poor and happy. What’s the point of being rich if you’re sad all the time? I could do that now, for cheaps.

[33.] Do you work out?
I think “work out” is a little too strenuous a word for what I do. But yes, I do get some physical activity in.

[34.] What would you do if you found a dinosaur egg?
Look at it and probably think it was gross… because, let’s face it: It’s going to be covered in dirt and baby dinosaur goop, and there’s no way I’m touchin’ that.

[35.] Do you get bored easily?
Nope. I am easily amused.

[36.] What’s something that someone can do that really bothers you?
Take off their socks in my room and leave them there.
Make me choose between two things that are equally appealing (or unappealing) to me.
Act like it’s urgent that we do something RIGHT NOW and then loaf around and leave whenever you feel like it, while I’m standing at the door, ready to go.
Make me hotter (in degrees Fahrenheit, people) than I already am naturally.

[37.] Did you ever want to change your name when you were younger?
Heh heh. Yep. I hated my name and was paranoid that everyone would think I was a boy (because someone told me that my name could be a boy name too), so I decided when I was like 8 that the MINUTE I turned 18 I was changing my name to Aquamarina. Because being mistaken for the tweener child of sea-loving hippies is way better than saying, “Nope, you forgot the E on the end of my name” all the time.

[38.] Do you wish you were famous?
Ew… no.

[39.] Do you make a wish at 11:11?
Wha? No.

[40.] When you’re at the beach, do you swim or lay out more?
I don’t go to the beach. But then, I’m not a big skin cancer fan.

[41.] Who’s the last text message you received from and what did it say?
I don’t remember, and I’m not going to go all the way to my room and dig my phone out of last night’s jeans.

[42.] What are you freakishly obsessed with?
Crossword puzzles
Wanting a puppy right now

[43.] What’s your favorite song at the moment?
I have no favorite songs. I am the queen of indecision.

[44.] Do you like going to the mall to shop or just shopping online?
I would prefer to shop at a thrift store, which is immediately obvious to anyone who has seen the way I dress, but I actually do like shopping for things other than clothes online. There’s something fearfully wonderful about clicking on stuff and having it come in the mail… until the credit card bill comes, of course. :)

[45.] Can music affect your mood?
Sometimes. Mainly I just like it.

[46.] What piercing do you want?
No more than I already have.

[47.] Who’s your biggest fan?

[48.] What tattoos do you want?
None… sometimes I think they look cool, but sometimes I think I hate them… so I could never get one, because 50% of the time I would be all, “Why am I so dumb?!” I can’t ever get a haircut without buyer’s remorse the next day, so I have no business permanently inking something onto my body. At least hair grows out (though I have to say, I have only ever had fleeting thoughts of regret about my current haircut… like when I wake up and look like a disheveled conehead… ON THE WHOLE (cue The BFF laughing), I have to say that I love it).

[49.] Have you ever been in a cave?
I don’t know. Who cares?

[50.] When will you see the person you like next?
When I meet him.

In Which I Ramble… Forever.

You’d think with all the turkey, pie and pickled things I ate today that I would be sleeping like a log. Alas, it does no good to think about it… because I can’t sleep. It’s almost two in the morning, and here I sit, having made this new blog, lamenting my lack of sleep to the world. Or to whomever reads this. Or to myself… who knows.

There are a lot of things on my mind that I’m not sure I’m going to be able to articulate. It is two in the morning, you know… but here are some random facts about me to get this blog thingie going:

Babies love me.

I love that.

It makes me feel like “The Baby Whisperer” or something.

Unfortunately, I have none of my own.

I am soon, however, to have a niece or nephew.

I’ve only been on two dates in my life.

One was a “friends-only” date.

The other, I can only describe as a disaster, the consequences of which (namely, awkwardness) are still in evidence to this day, despite the protests of the guy involved. (I don’t care what you say, Mr. J… it is awkward, and you know it.)

I am a Christian.

I am the oldest of five children.

I have moved back in with my parents.

This feels somewhat like a step back, since I’m 25 years old.

I am aware that lots of 25-year-olds live with their parents.

That doesn’t negate the fact that it feels a little lame sometimes.

My brothers are like the meat of a sandwich… my sister and I are the bread.

Not to say that my brothers ARE meat… just that they’re the middle of our particular sibling sandwich.

This is long.

If you don’t like it, stop reading.

I like to think that I am witty.

I know for a fact that I have “actually always had a rather extensive vocabulary, not to mention a phenomenal grasp of grammar and a superlative command of syntax.”

I like to quote movies.

Ten points if you know in which movie that quote occurs.

I am sarcastic.

I laugh loudly, at all the wrong times and places.

Hence, I get glared at sometimes.

Which makes my inner rebel rise to my defense, telling myself that I don’t care what people think of me.

But really, I do.

I worry about many things

I worry that I’ll never get married

I worry that people think I’m annoying, and put up with me only because it’s the right thing to do.

I worry that my hair will never be anything but poofy.

I worry that I’m not actually saved.

When I was little and anyone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, my answer was always the same: I’m gonna be a mom.

If you asked me the same thing today, I’d probably give a more roundabout answer… but it would, if you could get past the walls I’ve erected to protect my heart, be the same answer.

I work at home, for my parents’ business.

I make… the opposite of bank.

But that’s ok, because I don’t have to pay rent or buy groceries.

And I only work 15 hours in a week, plus or minus a few.

I work on salary, so if I get it done really fast, it’s like I get paid $30+ per hour.

But I usually dawdle.

Because I’m lazy.

And I get sidetracked reading other peoples’ blogs.

And checking my myspace.

And joining groups on facebook.

And following rabbit-trails on Wikipedia.

And taking pictures of myself.

Because, as it happens, the only person who can take a good picture of me is… me.

Not because I’m such a great picture-taker.

I’m not sure why it is.

Maybe I feel less insecure when there’s no one else around or something.

Either way, I always look like a dork when someone else is on the other side of the camera.

Which isn’t saying much, since I pretty much look like a dork all the time.

And I dress like a hobo.

At least I am pretty sure other people think so.

I don’t care; I’ll wear what I want.

But pretty please… will you still like me?