Things I Shouldn’t Share

Utterly Unrelated Trivia Bits:

I’m in my late-30s. (No, you don’t need to know EXACTLY where, nosy mcnoserton). Old enough to fucking know better but do stupid shit anyway (and occasionally scare the hell out of myself when the not-teenager looks back at me in the mirror). Where the hell did those crows feet come from??

I never swear. Unless I’m speaking. Or writing.

Manners are fucking important.

I LOVE LOVE LOVE Syfy channel’s bad creature movies. I adore ghostly/exorcist/creature horror (as long as eyeballs remain in place). Sharknado is quality television, people.

I’ve been a bellydancer for over ten years and occasionally teach beginners. I avoid performing at all costs.

I recently took up running. By running I mean walking (and dry heaving) in fancy new running shoes between attempts at 60 seconds of a peculiar bouncing walk that could be jogging, if it were faster than actually walking.

Turns out hiking is more rewarding for me. Less dry heaving, more nature.

I have NO REMAINING COORDINATION. Grace is not part of my daily life…tripping on nothing and mystery shin bruises from shelf/desk/rock attacks are my norm. I sprained my ankle walking on a flat asphalt path.

I believe in ghosts. I believe there are creatures in this world (and in other worlds/dimensions/planes) that we haven’t seen/discovered yet. I’m not ashamed of this: believing there’s something more than meets the eye is the sign of an open mind.

I have dogs. Giant person-sized dogs who shed everywhere and drool in epic proportions. They’re elderly now, but they still protect me from all the leaves/air/sticks/birds in the yard with furious barking.

I’m not computer-savvy enough or science-fiction-credible enough to feel like I can call myself a geek without getting in stupid geek-cred arguments (which I’d lose)…but I love being around them.

I’m a terrible liar.

I loathe writing all these silly “I” statements…am I having an argument with myself? Didn’t the therapist say to use “I” statements when you’re in an argument? WHY ARE YOU ARGUING WITH ME, BITCH?

Erm…I may have a bit of an anger management issue…

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