one. i prefer to sit at the macy’s mac or clinique cosmetics counters to do my makeup. otherwise, it doesn’t get done.
two. i like looking at all the colors and such for makeup. the cases and whatnot. but really? i could live the rest of my life without the stuff and not feel a void or lack because of its absence.
three. my undergarments hardly ever match, although when i buy them, i purposefully choose colors and styles that work together. it’s just that when i wash them, they never make it to the dresser. they land on the floor and i grab the first things i see.
four. i’ve never really liked going to art museums. and i was an art major the first two years in college, so you would think this would not be so, right? that i’d be all about’m. i’d rather spend my day in a football stadium. or in a pool. or a movie theater. i can’t paint worth a damn, by the way. i’m pretty good with pencils, though.
five. i like live music well enough. house of blues is my favorite place to watch a show. i like smaller venues, where it’s less about getting smashed and/or crazy and more about the music and watching the performance.
six. i get my news from my friends and family. really the only time i watch newsy stuff is on sunday mornings with my folks, when i clue in on all the political mumbo jumbo via george stephanopolous and the this week round table. but the evening news? i hardly ever watch that.
seven. nine times out of ten, if i’m lounging on the couch or in my father’s recliner, my mac is on my lap, the television is on (either tuned to football or a film), and there’s some sort of beverage within reach. always with my laptop, though. always.
eight. i’ve never been to new york city. and that’s okay. i’ve been to london. once you’ve seen that, new york seems kind of… meh. the only times i’ve wanted to see it are when i watch one fine day or serendipity. and even then, the inclination isn’t that strong.
nine. i’m not a fan of yankee candles. they have maybe two fragrances i like, and i don’t love’m enough to spend what the company’s asking for them. there used to be a shop in the mall here call inspirations, i think. i liked their candles the best. but of course, yankee candle bough them out or something.
ten. i love nail polish. but my nails, both on my hands and feet are so short, that coloring them would look funny. i hardly ever have my fingernails painted. i’ll get my toes painted maybe three times a year.
eleven. i’m not sure what compelled me to buy half the things in my closet. i tend to wear the same dozen articles of clothing, usually a denim skirt paired with some aggies t-shirt or khaki cargos with a red t-shirt or a shirtdress, depending on what i’m doing at the time. i’ve folded stacks and mounds of clothes on my floor, most of which i’ve not worn in months.
twelve. i don’t have any tattoos. i’ve debated getting one. if i do, it’d probably be a griffin or a celtic symbol of some sort, probably on my arm (cause that’s the only part of me that doesn’t have much fat on it). but seriously? i hate needles. so the chances of my getting a tattoo are supremely slim.
thirteen. i don’t like roller coasters or bungee jumping or anything thrill-seeking like that. i’m a wuss. and i’m alright with this. i don’t get motion sickness. i’m really glad i don’t have that problem.
fourteen. i’m not nearly as comfortable in a car as i used to be. once upon a time, i’d get in my car and go driving on the back roads near my house, sometimes for hours. happily. i often felt most like myself when i was in my car. safest and strongest, which is weird considering the number of accidents in which i have been involved (i promise you, they weren’t all my fault) and the number of times i used those aimless drives to vent or cry or wallow, i’m not sure how many would call that safe or strength. nowadays, though, i’m really only in my car for the shortest route from a to b. maybe this is because the roads are way too crowded nowadays, and people so frequently crowd each other on the roadways that i’m more often irritated by being in the car than relaxed as i once was.
fifteen. never owned a convertible. i think i’m alright with this. the only reason i would not get one is that i hate combing out the tangles in my hair.
sixteen. i can’t remember the last time i wore a pair of shorts out in public. the last time i wore a bikini, i was three.
seventeen. i’m bad about volunteering my time and energy. i’m pretty good about giving folks money if they need it, though. assuming of course i have it to give.
eighteen. my dream job, i guess, is writing. i’m best at that, and i’d make my own schedule and stuff which is infinitely preferable to the way things are at the moment.
nineteen. i’ve never drank an entire cup of black coffee. i’ve had cafe mochas before. coffee’s not so much my thing. tea and coke. and water. if i’m trying to be good. but it’s almost always tea.
twenty. i can’t garden worth a damn. and i’m alright with this, too.
twenty-one. my biggest fear is that i will never amount to anything.
twenty-two. my relationship with my parents… i feel like i’m too much the child, too reliant on their support, too reluctant to change my circumstances (because i’m too afraid to try to do better, i guess… or too lazy). my father and i butt heads about everything. my mother and i have never had that strong mother/daughter bond that i see other women have with their mothers, that she had with hers. i’ve never felt like i was a good fit for them. they are so opposite me in my so many ways. i feel like i am more often than not a great disappointment to them.
twenty-three. the most important thing i’d tell my sixteen year-old self is to stand up.
twenty-four. five things that make me happy right now: i’ve had two really good days at work at pbk, numbers-wise; football; sleep; writing; def leppard (i’ve not listened to any other band in a week… it’s kind of nice to remember how much i loved their music in my youth, that i still can appreciate it).
twenty-five. the hardest thing i’ve ever experienced is rejection.