confessions/stating the obvious

I smoke a pipe. And sometimes when I'm driving I get embarrassed about it and hide it at intersections so as to not face discrimination, or get a little anxious when I offer friends-who-don't-know a ride and it's sitting out in my car.

I pop all over-- joints, groin (I think?), pretty much you-name-it.

I give people at intersections/standing in the median dollars sometimes. Sometimes I avoid the intersection just so I don't feel guilty about not.

I'm a bit of a trichotillomaniac. But not on my head, and not to the serial-killer extent (I learned this term in a scary serial-killer-focused crim class I took). Mainly arm hairs.

I eat too much.

I especially eat too much and trichotillomania too much when I'm stressed. So I'm assuming, come master's project time, I will gain 15+ pounds and be arm-hair-less. Oh, and absolutely hate myself.

I procrastinate.

I like a clean house (and please, a clean kitchen), but my bedroom is most likely untidy and I have papers overflowing and my house is usually not tidy.

I miss my brother like shit-cry-crazy. And it'd be dream-like if my sister, bro-in-law, and niece and nephew lived here. Euphoria.

I get jealous. I get angry. I get defensive.

I don't understand people and their bias against the gays marrying. And am passionate about defending them.

I find myself uncomfortable around gay couples and I don't like it.

I'd rather not have a roommate. Though sometimes it's nice late at night knowing someone else is in the place with me (isolated in her bedroom, please).

I actually like school. But not the stress it brings or the self-motivated learning that's necessary. ugh. pfft. pshaw.

I like drinking alone. And with people.

I'm a bit nervous about posting this. Do I? Don't I? Why would I? Yet at this point I think I'm going to.

I go to therapy, weekly. And it's been a few years. And I recommend it.

I'm on anti-depressants.

I value independence but interdependence can be a damn nice thing.

I believe in a God. or god. I think, God. Well, god? Does the capitalization really measure significance.

Oooo I like the music I listen to. I wish I could take initiative and learn to play the guitar that's sitting right over there. (And these photos will be so much better when I get that iPhone later this month!)

I like hosting parties, but I like less going to parties.

I claim responsibility for too much.

I like being in control and knowing what's going to happen next. And/yet I also value spontaneity.

I was all about 'NSync when I was, like, 20.

I don't watch as much tv as I imagine myself to. And I don't remember things from movies/tv shows like other people can.

I like how I feel post-workouts. But once again, I'm a procrastinator. And I'm lazy. Remember high school? Yeah I don't ever want to go back there. But I wasn't lazy then. (But speaking of HS, I think everyone should go to their awkward high-school reunion. At least the first one. Because it's awkward, and you know it, and everyone knows it, and there's alcohol, and all of us are just as accomplished (and not) as we are. You can't fake it.)

I really like flavor-filled, uncommon (asterisk vegetarian and wheat-free) foods. But at home I mostly eat bland, salt-and-pepper things, like chips and beans, fruit and veg and cheese.

I don't know how I should end this. With some powerful, significant "something" I suppose. I'm not doing this for responses. [And I hope you don't associate me with someone else you know who writes personal diaries on the web. And I hope a different you-know-who doesn't take that statement as negative and back-stabbing to other said individual. 'Cause I don't mean it that way.] And it's more for me than you (begin Wilson Phillips' "Hold On" background music).

As a matter of fact:



(So hilarious. Brother, I'm imagining interpretive dancing with you and dag-gone loving it.)