10 Randoms

I stole this from a Facebook friend who stole it from another. I'm sure it wouldn't have been hard to come up with this on my own. You never know though, I could have been the inventor of "22 Random Things About Me." It's all in the number people.

Let's begin:

1. I hold my breath when I pee. This only becomes a problem when I haven't had bathroom access for a while and the length of time it takes to pee exceeds the length of time I am able to hold my breath. I have to stop, breathe, and only then can I continue.

2. I snooze my alarm for a minimum of 30 minutes before I am able to get out of bed. Bridge Man truly appreciates this one.

3. After moving back to the states from Japan people would ask how fluently I could speak the language. I would be honest and tell them I knew very little. But then I would be dishonest and tell them I knew how to say one curse word. I had my entire fourth grade class saying "mi-sho-sho" by the end of the year. I won't tell you what it meant but know that it is total gibberish.

4. I have the feet of Fred Flintstone. I've shared this with you in the past but thought I'd prove it to those disbelievers out there.

I also thought I'd prove to you that I'm not the only one who has these feet. Those with feet in the photo will love me for making this public because they don't seem to be as proud as I am.

5. I am a product whore. I own more lotions, potions, and products than a woman should. Most of them go unused or partially used but I absolutely cannot throw them out. I just might use them again, some day. I've been doing better with this addiction though. I've been forcing myself to use what I have before I buy more. This revelation came to me when I was organizing my products and realized that I have enough lipstick, lip gloss, chap stick, etc., etc. to fill a bucket and enough lotions and perfume-type things to fill a duffel bag. Don't judge.

6. I don't read as much as I used to back in the day. When my sister, Bear, and I were younger we used to race books to see who could finish the fastest. In the winter, when there was nothing else to do, I could sail through eight or nine Nancy Drew books in a day. I read the entire series "The Chronicles of Narnia" before it was trendy, sailed through "The Baby Sitter's Club," and had every Beverly Cleary book read before I was eight years old.

7. I like to sing show tunes while washing the dishes. In the shower I sing 80's pop songs. Each genre has its place on my chore list.

8. I like to make up names for cars that I own and ones in which I spend a lot of time. I drive a red Dodge Stratus RT, her name is Red Betty. Bridge Man used to drive a blue Dodge Dakota, she was Big Blue. Since he bought his Jeep, I've yet to come up with a good name. I mentioned Hi-ho Silver but it never stuck. Any suggestions?

9. I get bored with my hair very quickly. I can't understand how someone can live with one hair cut/color for years and years.

10. It's really hard to come up with all these random things about myself. The list I stole from my Facebook friend was originally "16 Random Things About Me." I made the appropriate adjustments.

All Dressed In White

A long, long time ago there was this boy and this girl. The boy and the girl went to the same school and lived in neighboring towns but knew nothing of each other. Then, one day in the middle of a scorching summer they were introduced. The boy had a shaggy mop of brown hair on his head and wore oversized shorts with an equally oversized t-shirt. The girl wore a tiny pair of jean shorts and green, baby doll top and finished the look off with perfectly groomed locks of black hair.

Ignoring the butterflies that filled their bellies, the boy and the girl went on out for their first night on the town together at the tender age of 17. The boy was a perfect gentleman; he picked the girl up to meet her intimidating and large family, he held open every door she went through, he told her how pretty she looked, and at the end he asked her for a second date. The only sounds that crossed the dinner table that night were the clanking of knives and forks and the occasional sounds of nervous laughter when their eyes would happen to meet. The girl knew not to become attached to this relationship; it couldn’t possibly last longer than two weeks.

Eight years later, the boy and the girl are still together. They went to college together, they moved in with each other, and have started a life together. Four days ago the boy asked the girl to be his wife and the girl said yes. One year from now, this girl and her Bridge Boy will live happily ever after as husband and wife.

I Know You Are But What Am I?

I went out with J last night since we haven't done anything, just us chicas in a while. We ran into some welcome, familiar faces in addition to the usual unwelcome and unfamiliar faces. I don't understand why guys think that just because a girl is out in a bar she wants to be picked up. What's the thought process here? "Wow, that girl is hot. I bet if I go over there and lay my best line on her she'll want me baaaaad!"

I digress. Although, I complain, a laughable pick-up line from a slimy chump would have been better than what actually happened.

Random Dude: (To J) Wow, you have great hair.
J: Thanks. What’s your name?

(This is where they make their introductions to each other, but I'll spare you that dialogue.)

RD: I love that color.
J: (Pointing at me) She colored it for me.
RD: (To me) Oh, what’s your name?

(This is where we make our introductions as if I hadn’t been standing there the entire time.)

RD: (To J) You look really great tonight.
J: Thanks.

(He walks away for a while. Then he decides to come back after a long time of contemplating his next move with J.)

RD: Wow, that’s a great shirt you’re wearing.
J: Uh, thanks.
RD: (He looks her up and down) You really look great tonight.

(He emphasizes his point with two classy thumbs up and continues…)

RD: (He then looks me up and down) You look… (He see-saws his hand in a so-so fashion and continues) … ehh.

Me: (Shocked and upset, but never one to miss a beat, I look him up and down and say…) You look, um… (Without completing my sentence I give him two hugely emphasized thumbs down and walk away.)

I know, I know, I lowered myself to his level, but he totally deserved it. (Na-nana-nana-na!)



But what sucks the most is that what this stranger said actually had an effect on me. I did cry, twice, once in the filthy bathroom of the bar and the second time after I got home and told Bridge Man what happened. The end result: all of my plaguing insecurities are hanging on a neon light right above my head to remind me that maybe my ghetto fabulous booty isn’t so fabulous, maybe my ebony hair is too dark for my face, and maybe, just maybe, all of those insecurities that I pass off as just that, are not figments of my imagination but honest-to-goodness facts that I’ve chosen to ignore.

Sleeping Tiger

Everyone has his or her childish moments, right? At some point, we’ve all felt the undying urge to spread a juicy piece of gossip like wildfire. We’ve all thrown a tantrum or two when a jerk cuts us off in traffic – our response: the appropriate finger and several choice words. Moments like this truly exemplify the caveman in us all.

Teenagers, of course, embody the essence of angry, ape-like fury. When they get mad, the shit hits the fan, the kitchen cabinets, and the coat tree from down the hall. They (I guess) have an excuse – they’re teenagers. They are going through one of the most trying times of life.

What about adults? What’s our excuse?

Last weekend I went out to a bar with a couple of friends but before we could even make it inside, two full-grown men were dueling it out on the sidewalk. One in particular kept swiping his thumb under his nose, plucking at his shirt (dirt-off-your-shoulder style), and gruffly yelling, “What!? You wanna fight!?” All the while, two of his cronies were holding onto him with a grip that suggested to the other fighter, “If we let go, he’s gunna to go ape on your ass!”

As I witnessed this display, I pictured (and maybe this directly correlates to the amount of time I spend watching the Discovery Channel) a big monkey pounding his hairy fists on his equally hairy chest, picking his nose, and grunting while his two smaller monkey friends dance around him, screeching at the other monkey fighter to back off.

Who knows what the fight was even about - but what a pathetic display of machismo, yes?

My point?

Well, I’ve had some angry, ape-like moments myself and they tend to occur right around the same times of the day – early, early morning or mid R.E.M. My college roommates learned quickly not to disturb my slumber. For example:

G: (Whispering) Xteener? Xteener?
Me: (Abruptly) Huh?
G: Can I use your computer?
Me: (Even more abruptly) Yes.
G: (Almost apologetically) I need your password to log on.
Me: (Wordlessly, I get up, stomp my way down the hall to my computer, slam the password onto the keyboard, and stomp my way back to bed.)

I can’t even imagine what G was thinking. I later apologized, wrote down my password for future use, and explained my irrational morning anger. She was, fortunately, very forgiving.

More recently…

Bridge Man: (Oh-so-sweetly) Babe, it’s time to get up.
Me: (Nothing. I heard what he said but chose not to respond.)
Bridge Man: Xteener, babe, time to get up.
Me: (Not very nicely) I KNOW! I’m getting up, jeeze!

Oh, if only you could know how badly I felt about this one. Bridge Man is the most mild-mannered person you’ll ever meet. He rarely gets angry or yells, so yelling at him is like punching a puppy in the nose. Awful. Of course he didn’t get upset with me but he did say that he hates when he has to wake me up. Absolutely dreads it.

Fabulous. I’m a jerk.

The Green Eyed Monster

I am a member of two online social networks where thousands flock to get a daily dose of creeping on the people they don’t really know. Before I was hip to the crazies out there, my profiles were open for everyone and their brother to see. Almost daily I would get a message or a friend invite from someone named Tiffany or Bunny who proudly parade pictures of themselves in negligees for all to see. I eventually wised up to this and made every online profile I’ve created as private as private can be. Now the only people who can creep on me are those that I choose. It’s amazing the relationships that have rekindled from these networks. I can now have daily conversations with people that I haven’t seen or heard from in years.

Lately, it seems like I’ve been catching up with a lot of people from high school. It’s like an online class reunion. This person now lives in Colorado. That person moved to California right after college. So-and-so works for a huge conglomerate in NYC. And what’s-his-face is moving to Texas in a few months. After hearing their stories I can’t help but be jealous. How did they manage to remove themselves from central Illinois?

I had a conversation with one of my closest friends, J, recently:

J: I have to go to St. Louis soon to check out everything with the Navy.
Me: So you’re really going to do the Navy thing?
J: I don’t know. I want to keep my options open.
Me: What are your other options?
J: I want to move to Colorado.
Me: You suck. I don’t even have the option of leaving this hole.
J: Yea, it’s nice.

It’s not that I don’t like life in Corn Country. My nuclear family lives here, I enjoy changes in the seasons (to an extent), my man (Bridge Man) and his family live here, and… well, that’s about it. Those are the reasons I’m staying.

More specifically:
- Bridge Man doesn’t want to move too far away from his family.
- My mom is not in the best of health and I want to be near her for anything that she needs.
- My nephew is only 2 years old and I don’t want to miss these vital, growing-up years. He needs to know his Aunt Xteener.

Yet, there are so many other reasons for me to leave. I could get a different, better, and a more rewarding job anywhere my heart desires. I want to experience different things and people and cultures. I want to have these experiences under my belt before I finally decide to settle down. I even have a mental list of all the places I want to live.

Yes, my reasons are selfish. I understand this. But what’s a girl to do?

No, really… what should I do?

Me, Myself, & I

- I drink at least six, 20oz bottles of water a day
- Therefore, I constantly have to pee
- I hate feet, no matter how clean or pretty they are, I hate them
- I have numerous irrational fears including: the dark, being alone, and feet
- I make a list for everything, rarely are these lists completed
- I am not a vegetarian, but I hardly ever eat meat or eggs
- My mom is my hero
- I have two sisters and two brothers
- I would like to have a dog, please
- I hate going to the doctor
- I get a headache every work day around 2:30
- I have sprained an ankle three times in my life, last week being one of them
- I didn’t get my license until I was 21 years-old, I didn’t own a car until 25
- My cell phone is permanently attached to me
- I have more hobbies than I can usually handle including: beading, sewing, painting, writing (songs, poems, articles, etc.), the guitar, hooping, and singing (just to name a few)
- I am more comfortable when covered with a blanket, whether I’m cold or not
- I can’t be by myself for longer than 30 minutes
- I am always running late
- I am a huge procrastinator, but do my best work at the last minute
- My hair looks different every month
- I have a flip-flop addiction and would wear them every day of the year, including the winter, if possible
- I have a chap stick addiction, I keep one in my purse, desk, night stand, bathroom, car, and silverware drawer
- I cry a lot
- I’ve been dating my man for eight years – we are high school sweethearts
- I’m a mild hypochondriac, and as of late, I have diagnosed myself with diabetes
- I say “I’m sorry” too much
- My favorite place in the world is Southern California
- I can out-burp a 300lb man with a beer

When in Springfield

I usually pride myself for being media savvy and not falling for marketing ploys and gimmicks. I am, as you know, in that biz myself. I’m schooled on the tricks of the trade. Well, ladies and gentlemen, I fell. I fell hard. I've been Simpsonized.