1. I talk to myself. Loudly, emphatically, and without shame.
Fact. I will have entire conversations with specific people that I may or may not know (…I mean, sometimes they’re famous) and the other person’s questions and responses are always in my head. But mine are loud and articulated. I will lapse into self-conversation so easily, that Hubs frequently has to point out to me that I am, once again, talking to myself. I feel that it’s crucial to note that it’s never to ‘myself.’ There’s always another person on the other end of my comments, and that person always exists in real life, too. Ie, I’m never having a talk with my imaginary friend Chauncy the Addled Unicorn or anything. Maybe what I’m doing is closer to character appreciation/review?
2. I am an extrovert.
Myth. Actually, I don’t even know anymore. I used to readily accept that I was 400% extrovert, no questions. But then I read somewhere that extroverts get energized from social things, and introverts get exhausted. I get exhausted. I love them, but I also love them in well spaced doses. I start to go crazy when there isn’t enough verbal communication, but sometimes, becoming a frothing axe murderer seems plausible when people aren’t shutting up quickly enough. I like online shopping because I can sit quietly in my bed and not have to interact with anyone. I prefer reading an article to watching a video of one. I feel put upon when work requires me to be social with a bunch of people I don’t know. But, when social time involves friends, I’m all over it. And then I’m exhausted for days. I like to process via words. But, I’m better at processing if it’s writing and not talking. So, even if I am mostly extrovert, I think there must be at least a streak of that quiet, reclusive, sort, in there somewhere.
3. I love Chef Boyardee.
Fact. Why the fuck haven’t they made a gluten free variety of this? They have a fake version that is gluten free, but it’s not the same brand, and it tastes like dehydrated rhino shit. It doesn’t come close to bringing back memories of Mom feeding me that stuff when I was sick and needed comfort food. Unacceptable.
4. I am forgiving.
Myth. I guess I tend to see the act of forgiving someone differently than most people? If I forgive someone, it’s because there was ownership on both ends and for necessary things, and because I can trust that the situation will not reoccur repeatedly. If those things aren’t possible for whatever reason, then I won’t waste my time forgiving someone. Thusly, forgiving someone is something that I don’t often do. I went over this in the entry Tears; if someone can’t be trusted to treat me with respect and care, then I don’t need to waste my time trusting them to be something that they’re not, and have no desire to be. It’s not a hate or grudge thing; it’s a priority thing.
5. I am lazy.
Fact. This isn’t some faux lazy, secret self compliment, ooo-lookit-me-I-tout-efficiency-and-focus-over-endless-busy-work-OOO-LOOK-HOW-SMART, type thing. I don’t allow myself to sit in bed all day, watch movies, play rpg games, eat Cheetos, and buy stupid shit online. But this is because I was Very Strictly Taught that being functional is kind of important. I get up every morning craving 72 straight hours of pure, stone-assed, indulgence, where the only time I have to get out of bed is to go to the bathroom or go downstairs to get the pizza. And even getting the pizza inflames my fantasy to the point where I then waste more time trying to think of ways around having to move to bring food to my face. The only reason I get off my ass and do anything other than piddle away time staring at a screen, and maybe, just maybe, have the wherewithal to appreciate the weird, real life, experience, is because my parents nearly broke their souls ceaselessly ingraining depth and integrity into my brain. Crap, I probably need to rewrite my Mother’s Day card so it reflects that. Thanks, Mom and Dad?
6. I can help you physically get from point A to point B.
Myth. No. You’re welcome to ask, but whatever I tell you should be instantly ignored or filed into some vague and always inappropriate humor dossier for situations that need words to take up time and nothing else. I have three GPS systems, don’t even know how one of them works (plus I think I spilled juice on it and it’s been sticky for like a year), am scared of the second one, and constantly angry at the third. I, at one point, thought Vermont was a city. I was not a child when I thought this. Well, mostly not a child. Whatever. I got lost driving home (as in, to my house, that I have lived in for three years), and so desperately didn’t want to take five minutes to use a GPS, that I went all the way back to my original location, and started over. Just don’t ask me. Although, if you do, I might tell you a story about gremlins. I do that sometimes in lieu of more helpful information.
7. When someone is having a fart laden day, I like to tell them, affectionately, ‘You and your chatty butthole.’
8. I sing randomly and without melody for many minutes on end.
Fact. I also cadence responses to statements, questions, and outbursts. Not all the time; only when it is most annoying. They are mostly IV-I or V-I types, but sometimes I spice it up. It just depends. No one is never deceptive, so sometimes that happens. All of our pets have theme songs. None of them have melodies. I will also summarize recent events to the tune of Hey Jude. Sometimes it rhymes. It is often sarcastic. Hubs has perfect pitch and perfect musical memory (aka he hears a piece once, and can play it back almost to completion. It’s really fucking annoying to shits like me who actually have to, you know, struggle and shit), so obviously I have to sing all of our concertos and symphonies with random notes and beats added or taken away, in different keys, and with different, also random, modulations. I feel it evens things out a bit.
9. I walk normally at all times.
Myth. I enjoy a good sidestep trot, particularly if the viewing of my exit will be quickly obscured by a doorway or sharp turn into a different hallway. There is never any leg cross-over in my side step. That would make things far too complicated. I have also been known to run frantically down my own hallways and across random streets, with my arms above my head. The burst of speed method works best if it lacks foreshadowing of any kind. Sometimes I like to wrap my toes around the music stand and lift it very slowly while I’m playing. On rare occasions, I can aid other people’s music stands in this fashion. This typically occurs during chamber music, and isn’t even about walking. Moving on.
10. This post is passive aggressively avoiding doodling in my blog entries.
Fact. Apologies. I struggle. A lot. And I feel badly that my doodles are less than what I want and probably just fine for my blog and that I won’t just post them anyway. I feel like maybe summer time will enable me to face my ineptitude with less stress and more vodka.