Oh, February. You are already over- I feel like we were starting to, you know, connect. I thought you felt the same way about me. I guess you never really knew me at all...
I thought February, a.k.a. "love month" (my idea, feel free to use it) should go out on a positive note, even though I found out today that I have eight hours of faculty meetings tomorrow, starting at seven fucking forty five in the morning. Sheesh. I hope they don't expect much except mumbling and scowling, cause that's what they're gonna get. Assholes.
And...back to the positive.
I don't like these kind of lists, but I'm not so creative today.
Ten things I like about me/ Things that make me not suck
1. I am a good friend. I know this. I'll never judge what you did last night, those expensive shoes we both know you'll never wear, the unfortunate outfits we've all chosen (though me more than you guys) or the fact that you generally dislike children (Except Ms. Hotpant's. Hers make me almost want the little turds). Plus, I love to send random cards & postcards (o.k, sometimes I think it's funny to send horrifically creepy/dirty ones), and give flowers for no reason. These things are hopefully going to make up for you having to see my bare ass when I was drunk.
I can hope.
2. I know how to properly sear tuna, make the best homemade mac & cheez in the universe, bake a mean cookie, and will eat just about anything other people are willing to cook for me, which isn't often.
3. I love a good party, but I love a lazy day at home with my legally bound piece of man-meat more.
4. I am disgustingly, frustratingly, irritatingly, and obnoxiously optimistic. 99.9% of the time. I've never figured out how that trait developed. Maybe this one is actually a flaw, but- Hey! more fun psychoses to work on! Yay!
5. Freckles. Including the one on my ass. Boys always have seemed to love them. My grandma used to sing to me, "She has freckles on her butt, she is nice...". What a weird song.
6. My horrific singing voice. I keep thinking that if I sing more, it will get better. This has not been the case. I refuse to let that stop me, though I probably should. I still think no one rocks Journey, Styx and ELO better than me...I'm a freaking superstar.
7. I will drop everything, drive 4 hours in the snow, send flowers to your mom on the way, pick up your dry cleaning, vacuum your house, neuter your dog, clean your lint traps & help you bikini-wax at home. Just ask. Really, I don't mind. I really don't. Really. Something is wrong with me, really. Cause' I don't mind. I'm a doormat like that.
8. I am fairly fearless, and nearly immune to squeamishness when it comes to food/the production of food (this may give you a clue to my profession- or not). I have cut the head off of 4 pigs (dead already- longish story, work-related), eaten snails, made head-cheese from scratch, cut cows apart with power tools, sucked down countless raw oysters (usually not a big deal, but I fucking hate oysters) and know what the secret ingredient is that makes any food taste better (I'll let you in on the mystery- it's FAT. Butter, cream, duck fat, lard...you name it, fat makes food worth eating).
I will eat almost anything once, but not always twice. I don't think being a vegan is an option for me, ever.
9. I may come up with some of the most fucked-up clothing ensembles ever, but somehow it nearly always works. I'm brilliant like that. Plus, I hate when my clothes match too much. If my outfit isn't fighting with itself, something's wrong. I hope this never changes about me.
10. I will act embarrassed about things I do or say occasionally, but I'm really not. You probably needed to hear it. It probably needed doing/saying. Why be embarrassed? It just doesn't make sense to me. To me, if you are embarrassed, it means you have regrets.
Every day I am older, and every day is one less. I won't waste time worrying if you are mad that I told you I think you're wrong. Too bad for you- get over it. It probably made us both better people in the long run. Move on, do something stupid, do something daring- for once.
Thank you for indulging this bout of narcissism.
Tomorrow, March on, my little monkeys.