So Feathernester has sent a bunch of us into a crazy self-involved downward spiral. Thanks a lot.
She tagged a gaggle of us, and I have since spent most of my free time trying to think of anything interesting about me. Not all of my free time, mind you, as the OLYMPICS are on in the evenings, and there are few things that can tear my attention from all the happenings at the water cube. I'm a Phelps Phanatic right now.
I'll see if I can't stumble through this.
1. I am happy, and I really don't want to apologize for it. I am a seriously fortunate girl. I know that, and I'm thankful for it. However, M and I have worked hard to make our life what it is. I have a house that I love even though it keeps springing leaks and displaying all manner of old-house-quirkiness. I have a daughter that I adore. I have a dog that I can tolerate. I have a husband who is precious. I have friends and family that I love and that love me. When I try to think of things that I would change about my life, I can't think of anything. (Though I would change the location of M's job because that would make him happier.) So there, I'm happy as a clam, people. I really do love my life and all of its imperfections.
2. I am a total fraud. Or at least I suspect that I am. You know how I come off as super-confident? I both am and am not. I am 100% confident in myself. I know who I am, and it's exactly the person that I want to be. (Almost. I could stand to develop a little more patience.) I am not, however, confident about things that I do. I tend to give up on things that I'm not good at. If I think I might fail at something, I'll throw in the towel. There are numerous examples of this scattered through my life. It makes me seem like I'm better at things than I am. It's mostly because I don't do the things that I suck at. Actually, I'm not sure if this makes me a fraud or a quitter. Either way, that's probably more personal than I really need to get with this whole tag thing.
3. I don't function in messiness. It's not that I don't function well in messiness. I don't really function at all. I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown when we first moved because there were boxes sitting around the house. Boxes are not part of my decor. Once the boxes and their contents were put away, I was right as rain. I have instant panic attacks if I walk into my house and see piles on the kitchen counters or the dining room table. Like I said, I don't function in messiness. Everything has a home, people. Everything. If it doesn't have a home, it's home is the Goodwill bag.
4. I'd rather be beaten than eat mayonnaise, sour cream, or cottage cheese. I'm not talking about being beaten with a wet noodle. I'm talking "Jason Bourne thinks you killed his girlfriend" beaten. Once, when I was pregnant, I thought I wanted a chicken sandwich...with mayo...but with the mayo scraped off. Then I realized that being preggers is not excuse for being gross, and I laughed out loud at my own absurdity.
5. I do not like my body. I can't imagine what Carson Kressley would say if he got ahold of me. No matter what I do, or how much I try to play it off, I cannot get past my family always calling me Bologna Butt or telling me that I wasn't fat...I just needed to tone. I get seriously, seriously upset when I hear anyone telling any girl anything negative about her body. People have no idea what kind of damage they can do by saying insensitive things.
6. I love to cook. I love to cook for my family. I love to cook for my friends. I just love to cook. Chopping things makes me feel more complete. Making dinner for my husband makes me happy. If I could figure out a way to get dinner made without S hanging out in the kitchen begging for grapes, I might achieve nirvana. And, like Yum, I love pulling out the fancy dishes. I once served my younger sister orange juice in a crystal champagne flute, and I'm pretty sure she thought I'd lost my marbles.
7. I let my daughter watch TV, and I'm confident that she's going to be okay. S is obsessed with Mary Poppins, Cinderella, and her new DVD Potty Power. They are the first thing she asks for when she walks downstairs in the mornings. The first thing she asks for when we arrive home. She runs across the room and leaps onto the sofa, and watches TV. Then she gets bored and wants to play with her kitchen or her puzzles. Or she wants to go outside or read books. I'm operating on the assumption that she won't be addicted to TV if she is allowed to watch it but also realizes that other activities are fun, too. Everything in moderation, right?
8. I got through this whole list and didn't mention the environment or Barack Obama. It was difficult. I did it for all of you.
I need to shower, people. Have a great Wednesday, and pray for me as I try to decide between watching the Olympics tonight or Project Runway. I feel myself being tormented by the decision. I'm out. Oh, and Kristie, Lesley, and Angie E should all consider themselves tagged.