Random - "Me info" from the perspective of me...
I thought [morbidly] that someday I won't be here and maybe my family &/or friends would want to know some of the more odd things about me that aren't always well known or obvious.
I'm very sarcastic and try to be funny and witty. When I'm nervous, I turn the sarcasm and humor up a few notches to sooth my anxiety. I remember a time when I was probably 14 or so... We had pet guinea pigs (I never recommend them as pets. They are not good pets.) It was a day to clean the cages which were quite big and took two ppl to carry out of my room, through the living room, through the rest of the house and kitchen dining area just to get them out side in the back yard to clean... Those people were 1) ME and 2) My Dad. It smelled ghastly. Just awful. And the rodents had pee'd SO MUCH that we had to be careful to keep the cage level so not to spill urine on the floor. ~joy~ I made some sort of off-hand sarcastic comment and my dad stopped mid-step and told me how much he hated sarcasm... I looked at him shocked that he was A) stopping this very gross/disgusting, and precarious effort to share his feelings about sarcasm and B) I really didn't give one shit about it either other than to be annoyed at him. I responded something like "Sorry, but c'mon Dad. This is gross and when I'm in a mood I get sarcastic. So you should probably get used to me being this way at moments like this one for all those future moments. It's who I am and how I react to things." ... I remember seeing my dad's face as he was absorbing what I'd just said and then start moving again. I remember internally feeling both shocked that I had just totally, bluntly told my dad to basically 'deal with it' which was not something I'd usually spout off at my very strict and pissy father... Not at that age. And relief he'd not been offended or gotten mad at me. I also remember realizing in that moment the truth of what I'd just said. ~I am sarcastic. And the more uncomfortable I am, the more sarcastic I get. ~Not to say I'm only sarcastic when I'm nervous. Not at all... But definitely a "go-to" when I am.
I love being alone for hours at a time... Actually, days. Days at a time. I know that's odd sounding coming from me. But I really can't unwind around people. Their energy feeds me, unless I'm simply too tired to absorb it. And that's fine because I love being my hyper, social self too. But I also really love being alone. I'm very independent. I don't get offended when folks aren't around. I actually love it. I can recharge and I can slowly unwind enough to allow my creative mind to stretch out and start feeling inspired to do fun, cool things.
I love pottery. The kind with the mugs and bowls and stuff. The grey's and browns and cream colors. And the blue hue's mixed in... That old-school, hippy pottery. I love that. But I don't get to own it because it's usually very heavy... Which makes it difficult to store and wash easily in conventional ways. And my husband doesn't really like that stuff. Too 70's for him I think. But I love it. I love holding it, feeling it. Staring at how the colors flow together from the fire in the kiln. ~Love~
I also love stain glass, tiffany style lamps. Another thing that's too 70's for my husband's taste. And I can see that. But it's just so beautiful. I love watching light pour out from them. I own several. But most are hidden away in my home office because no one wants them around the house. ~sigh~
I snore. I hate that I snore. I don't want to do that to my husband. He isn't a deep sleeper and my snoring makes that worse. Plus, it's embarrassing. For work events, the really big ones... They make us share rooms and I always get so concerned about snoring with someone else in the room and keeping them awake. I try to subtly warn them in advance and promise to try and "not" snore (like I have a say or any control in this matter)... But what inevitably happens is I end up sleeping lightly enough that if I start to snore, I will wake myself up and stop. Problem is, this also means I don't sleep well AT ALL when I travel with others. ~sigh~
When I was very young, my father used to smoke a pipe. I loved the smell of the tobacco in the pipe... Then when I was probably 6-7 maybe, he stopped. I'm not sure why, but he did. But he never got rid of his pipe collection. He had several boring, traditional ones. But he also had an authentic corn-cob pipe and some very cool carved drift-wood pipes too. He has a multi-pipe stand to hold them and everything. ~He recently moved to Florida, and didn't see a reason to hold onto them anymore. He was going to give them to goodwill or throw them away. I saw them in the 'going' pile and grabbed them. Just to smell them. I still love the smell and it's a little nostalgic. I've never smoked in my life and never will... But I had to have them. ~My sister saw them and immediately ebay-searched what some of them might go for. Apparently the corn cob pipe is legit and could catch a fair price... But I know I'll never part with it. It's a part of my dad & my histories. ~After I'm gone, someone else will find them and they can do what they will with them. But for now, they are mine and my memories.
I have a darker skin complexion that my dad says probably comes from my French heritage, even though that's a very small portion of my heritage. My skin generally tan's quickly and doesn't burn. This is great, but also means I tend to neglect sunscreen which is bad. I also have extremely thick hair. It's straight in the front sides and then gets wavy in the back... Sort of annoying. Folks tell me I'm lucky for having my thick hair. I see their point. But it's also a hassle. I have to have strong water pressure to rinse shampoo &/or conditioner out of my hair. I HAVE to have conditioner or else brushing it will result in half of it being yanked/torn out. And I can't really do much with it. It's too thick to hold curls well or for very long. It's too heavy to keep up in fancy swirls without ten thousand hair pins. And forget blow-drying my hair. It would take an hour and my arms would break trying to hold the dryer above my head that long.
I am pretty tall for a girl I guess. But I am shrinking. HA! Two things I seem to have inherited from my father's male side of the family (oddly) is 1) I shrink a lot as I age... Apparently we have wide spine cartilage or something, and so as we age, the cartilage compress more and we lose a lot of height as a result. 2) I have shallow shoulder joints, which means by the young age of 23, I had repeatedly dislocated both my shoulders and done major damage to the tendons and ligaments holding my arm & should joints together. But I'm too scared to get the surgery to fix it... So I somethings have 'issues' with my shoulder/arm separating at unfortunate moments.
I'm not a picky eater. I eat most everything. I love food. And I love to cook food. I started with baking when I was a young teenager. It was something to do when I was bored at home. Then in college I learned stir-fry and how to bake large portion meals that I could 'nibble' through-out the week. Like stew, chicken casseroles and stuff like that. My roommates often asked me to cook for them. Then in my 20's I mastered meat roasts and traditional side dishes, and gravies. In my 30's I started learning about all sorts of different spices and started cooking more global cuisine like Indian dishes, Vietnamese dishes, Mexican dishes...etc. And I started grilling on the BBQ. Right now I'm learning more about cooking different kinds of seafood which is cool... I've never learned about sauces, which I know I really should figure out. I've got some basic tips down, but that is an area of weakness I have, at age 39.
Time to get back to it, but there you go. Some odd details about me I betcha didn't know before. Cheers.
I'm very sarcastic and try to be funny and witty. When I'm nervous, I turn the sarcasm and humor up a few notches to sooth my anxiety. I remember a time when I was probably 14 or so... We had pet guinea pigs (I never recommend them as pets. They are not good pets.) It was a day to clean the cages which were quite big and took two ppl to carry out of my room, through the living room, through the rest of the house and kitchen dining area just to get them out side in the back yard to clean... Those people were 1) ME and 2) My Dad. It smelled ghastly. Just awful. And the rodents had pee'd SO MUCH that we had to be careful to keep the cage level so not to spill urine on the floor. ~joy~ I made some sort of off-hand sarcastic comment and my dad stopped mid-step and told me how much he hated sarcasm... I looked at him shocked that he was A) stopping this very gross/disgusting, and precarious effort to share his feelings about sarcasm and B) I really didn't give one shit about it either other than to be annoyed at him. I responded something like "Sorry, but c'mon Dad. This is gross and when I'm in a mood I get sarcastic. So you should probably get used to me being this way at moments like this one for all those future moments. It's who I am and how I react to things." ... I remember seeing my dad's face as he was absorbing what I'd just said and then start moving again. I remember internally feeling both shocked that I had just totally, bluntly told my dad to basically 'deal with it' which was not something I'd usually spout off at my very strict and pissy father... Not at that age. And relief he'd not been offended or gotten mad at me. I also remember realizing in that moment the truth of what I'd just said. ~I am sarcastic. And the more uncomfortable I am, the more sarcastic I get. ~Not to say I'm only sarcastic when I'm nervous. Not at all... But definitely a "go-to" when I am.
I love being alone for hours at a time... Actually, days. Days at a time. I know that's odd sounding coming from me. But I really can't unwind around people. Their energy feeds me, unless I'm simply too tired to absorb it. And that's fine because I love being my hyper, social self too. But I also really love being alone. I'm very independent. I don't get offended when folks aren't around. I actually love it. I can recharge and I can slowly unwind enough to allow my creative mind to stretch out and start feeling inspired to do fun, cool things.
I love pottery. The kind with the mugs and bowls and stuff. The grey's and browns and cream colors. And the blue hue's mixed in... That old-school, hippy pottery. I love that. But I don't get to own it because it's usually very heavy... Which makes it difficult to store and wash easily in conventional ways. And my husband doesn't really like that stuff. Too 70's for him I think. But I love it. I love holding it, feeling it. Staring at how the colors flow together from the fire in the kiln. ~Love~
I also love stain glass, tiffany style lamps. Another thing that's too 70's for my husband's taste. And I can see that. But it's just so beautiful. I love watching light pour out from them. I own several. But most are hidden away in my home office because no one wants them around the house. ~sigh~
I snore. I hate that I snore. I don't want to do that to my husband. He isn't a deep sleeper and my snoring makes that worse. Plus, it's embarrassing. For work events, the really big ones... They make us share rooms and I always get so concerned about snoring with someone else in the room and keeping them awake. I try to subtly warn them in advance and promise to try and "not" snore (like I have a say or any control in this matter)... But what inevitably happens is I end up sleeping lightly enough that if I start to snore, I will wake myself up and stop. Problem is, this also means I don't sleep well AT ALL when I travel with others. ~sigh~
When I was very young, my father used to smoke a pipe. I loved the smell of the tobacco in the pipe... Then when I was probably 6-7 maybe, he stopped. I'm not sure why, but he did. But he never got rid of his pipe collection. He had several boring, traditional ones. But he also had an authentic corn-cob pipe and some very cool carved drift-wood pipes too. He has a multi-pipe stand to hold them and everything. ~He recently moved to Florida, and didn't see a reason to hold onto them anymore. He was going to give them to goodwill or throw them away. I saw them in the 'going' pile and grabbed them. Just to smell them. I still love the smell and it's a little nostalgic. I've never smoked in my life and never will... But I had to have them. ~My sister saw them and immediately ebay-searched what some of them might go for. Apparently the corn cob pipe is legit and could catch a fair price... But I know I'll never part with it. It's a part of my dad & my histories. ~After I'm gone, someone else will find them and they can do what they will with them. But for now, they are mine and my memories.
I have a darker skin complexion that my dad says probably comes from my French heritage, even though that's a very small portion of my heritage. My skin generally tan's quickly and doesn't burn. This is great, but also means I tend to neglect sunscreen which is bad. I also have extremely thick hair. It's straight in the front sides and then gets wavy in the back... Sort of annoying. Folks tell me I'm lucky for having my thick hair. I see their point. But it's also a hassle. I have to have strong water pressure to rinse shampoo &/or conditioner out of my hair. I HAVE to have conditioner or else brushing it will result in half of it being yanked/torn out. And I can't really do much with it. It's too thick to hold curls well or for very long. It's too heavy to keep up in fancy swirls without ten thousand hair pins. And forget blow-drying my hair. It would take an hour and my arms would break trying to hold the dryer above my head that long.
I am pretty tall for a girl I guess. But I am shrinking. HA! Two things I seem to have inherited from my father's male side of the family (oddly) is 1) I shrink a lot as I age... Apparently we have wide spine cartilage or something, and so as we age, the cartilage compress more and we lose a lot of height as a result. 2) I have shallow shoulder joints, which means by the young age of 23, I had repeatedly dislocated both my shoulders and done major damage to the tendons and ligaments holding my arm & should joints together. But I'm too scared to get the surgery to fix it... So I somethings have 'issues' with my shoulder/arm separating at unfortunate moments.
I'm not a picky eater. I eat most everything. I love food. And I love to cook food. I started with baking when I was a young teenager. It was something to do when I was bored at home. Then in college I learned stir-fry and how to bake large portion meals that I could 'nibble' through-out the week. Like stew, chicken casseroles and stuff like that. My roommates often asked me to cook for them. Then in my 20's I mastered meat roasts and traditional side dishes, and gravies. In my 30's I started learning about all sorts of different spices and started cooking more global cuisine like Indian dishes, Vietnamese dishes, Mexican dishes...etc. And I started grilling on the BBQ. Right now I'm learning more about cooking different kinds of seafood which is cool... I've never learned about sauces, which I know I really should figure out. I've got some basic tips down, but that is an area of weakness I have, at age 39.
Time to get back to it, but there you go. Some odd details about me I betcha didn't know before. Cheers.