5 Things You Don't Know About Me

While reading through my old blog (from the college days) I came across a list of "20 facts about me" that someone had tagged me to do. So, since Krystle requested an update, I thought maybe I'd tag myself in for that again. But I'm not up for 20, so how about 10 5?

Tag, I'm it!

1. I won something. I scrapbook, but not with photos cut into the shapes of hearts and dogs and stuff. Because of this, I recently won a pre-release copy of this book (which I loved, plus how cool is it to win something?!?):
   
2. I can lick my elbow. Apparently, this is impressive. My high school physiology teacher told us he would give a free A to anyone who could do it. He didn't follow through.
3. I do not like talking on the phone. Really. I don't know why, but I have this weird phobia of the phone. Even if my best friend of all life calls, I have a panic attack about answering it. I'm way more comfortable with face-to-face, chatting, or emailing. Weird.
4. I love ketchup (a lot). During my lifetime I have put ketchup on/in apples, doritos, apple sauce, quesidillas, pretty much every kind of meat, and cheese sandwiches. Sorry.
5. I am mortally afraid of squirrels. Or "Ratons del Diablo" as my brother and I call them. My brother and I are both scared of them, because our mom thought it would be a good idea to tell us that they carry the Black Plague. Poor Steve didn't understand my fear until he had to piggyback me past a group (swarm!) of them on our honeymoon.

I was going to write 10, but I wore out. Sorry. Maybe I'll write 5 more tomorrow. Or on a day that isn't tomorrow.

Blogaholic

So, um, did you guys know that I blog for a living? Like, part of my job at work is literally to write and market for two blogs. TWO. And I'm not going to share those with you because... Basically because I don't want to. If you're that curious you can ask and I'll probably tell you and then feel embarrassed.

But the thing that makes me a "blogaholic" as it were, is that I write two blogs at work, write my own blog, and then read like a bajillion other blogs. Most of them are written by people I don't know. But they're just so darn interesting.

Does this seem healthy?

(No. No it doesn't.)

But don't worry. I can seriously quit any time I want.

What Makes Me WANT to Cry in the Fetal Position

Hi. Here is something you can make fun of me for at the next waffle night or whatever:

So yesterday I'm sitting at the computer, scouring the internet for ways to refashion clothes, because that's what I'm about right now. Steve is at the grocery store, and its dark out, but I'm fine. Not scared. I'm used to this routine.

Then, out of nowhere, this earsplitting shrieky-grindy noise--like a vacuum cleaner with a grudge--starts screaming from the kitchen. Throwing my chair back from the computer, I jump up into the air and just stand, petrified, staring at the kitchen. The blender is on.

BY ITSELF. OF ITS OWN DESIRE. THE BLENDER TURNED ON.

It doesn't stop, either, and my brain isn't really functioning, I am just freaking out in total panic mode with so much adrenaline running through me that I can barely move. So how to I handle this?

I scream back at it.

...and that doesn't work. So then I run into the kitchen, almost crying, and sort of bat at the thing so I can reach past it to pull the plug out (if it had kept going I would have probably passed out) and all I'm thinking is

IT'S SET ON LIQUIFY. IT WANTS TO LIQUIFY ME. ITS A GHOST THAT WANTS TO LIQUIFY ME.

Once its unplugged I run out into the hall, fumbling for my phone on the way, and shut the door firmly behind me. I dial Steve's number. No answer. I dial about ten more times, and send two text messages. No answer.

For a second I'm wondering if something happened to him, and turning on the blender is his way of sending me a message (because the blender is Steve's thing, not mine), but then I call again and finally he answers and I'm all almost crying and freaking out and refusing to go back in the apartment.

Finally he calms me down enough to go back in (luckily no other appliances have turned on) and he tells me he'll be home soon, and once I've situated myself in front of Jeopardy with some frozen cookie dough and a spoon we decide its safe to hang up.

I'm still not so keen on that blender. Okay?

Wedding Dresses

So, reading my post below makes me realize, I totally want to wear my wedding dress again. I mean, come on, its gorgeous. It fits perfectly. You accessorize it with a tiara.

I'm trying to come up with a reason that would warrant wearing a wedding dress (besides a wedding).

Confession #1

I secretly like country music.

There. I said it.