1. When I go to Starbucks, I become irrationally worried that I’m going to forget my order. I will spend the entire time stuck in the drive thru saying my order on repeat. But attempting to say it casually as well, so I don’t come off as a *robot. (Because yes, that’s a serious concern I have- people mistaking me for a robot). “Venti, non-fat, no whip, white hot chocolate, Venti, non-fat, no whip, white hot chocolate. Why yes, it IS cold out today. Oh you like my hair? Thank you! What would I like? Oh that’s easy, Venti, non-fat, no whip, white hot chocolate”.
2. Not only do I practice my order- I routinely practice conversations with people who will only end up saying ” That’s $4.04- have a nice day” to me. They do not compliment my hair.
3. Strangers not taking an intense interest in my appearance sometimes disappoints me.
4. If wearing a white shirt and eating spaghetti, I sometimes give myself a pep talk beforehand. Ie: ” I can do this, I can do this, I can do this.“. As in, I can eat a meal without it getting on my shirt. I’ve yet to achieve this goal. Is it just me or does the chance of food falling significantly increase if a) wearing white b) wearing your favourite shirt or c) trying to impress someone?).
5. I will do a personality to quiz over and over until I get the result I want. And then I will act completely surprised that I got what I wanted. (Note: I never end up being labeled “someone who manipulates quizzes to get the desired result because they have an enormous ego”. Thankfully. That would be weeeeird.).
6. I think about the new Harry Potter movie everyday.
7. I cannot have more than 20 emails in my inbox at once. Any more and I succumb to a nuclear meltdown and end up lying on the floor, breathing into a paper bag willing myself to rest my wary and exploding head. Emails have to be immediately responded to, archived or deleted. I have no idea when this habit started of being a 20 emails only freak- or why it’s 20 and not 30 or 50 (just typing 50 made me shudder), but it’s 20. On the plus side, if I tell someone “hey, your email? STILL IN MY INBOX!” it’s one of the biggest compliments I can give. Unfortunately people don’t know that I only keep 20 in there and consider me a tool for letting them know that I have kept their email. Sad face.
8. If people say they don’t like “The West Wing”, I just assume they are confusing it with another show. I really, honestly cannot comprehend someone not liking that show. Such an event is just… nope, I can’t stretch my brain around it.
9. Speaking of television, I miss the show “Felicity” in big and important ways that make my 28 year old self ashamed.
10. If someone hurts my feelings, I’m not a yeller. Or fighter, really. I just… stop talking. And I can’t look at them. I turn into a submissive, mumbling, avoider. But if someone hurts my friends feelings? I will stomp on you. And your soul. And your mamma.
11. I have yet to finish reading a beauty magazine and feel BETTER about myself, yet every month I wait dutifully for new magazines to come out so I can take them home, caress their pages and feel as though my life is incomplete because I don’t own a skirt that costs more than my car. And university education.
12. I have probably 40 pairs of earrings. 20 bottles of nail polish. The most complex set of hot rollers ever. And everyday I wear the same earrings, with clear nails and straight hair. (I blame my need to purchase these items directly on #11)
13. I can justify any purchase. Any purchase. I have a friend who calls me when she wants to buy something but can’t talk herself into it. 10 minutes with me and I will have her whipping out her wallet and getting it in two colors.
14. I don’t get the cupcake craze. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like cupcakes. (What’s not to like? Icing? Cake? Sprinkles? Sign me up!) But there’s this.. intensity around cupcakes that I don’t quite follow. If a cupcake is around, sure- **I’ll eat it, but I’d always rather have sour patch candy. DO NOT STONE ME.
15. Every. Single. Time. I hit “publish”, I have an irrational fear that no one will read my post. I’m not worried about comments, I just has this moment of panic where I think “FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND NAMED RYAN REYNOLDS! WHAT IF NO ONE STUMBLES ON MY BLOG AND READS MY DEEP THOUGHTS REGARDING NON-FAT, NO WHIP HOT CHOCOLATE? WILL MY LIFE HAVE MEANING? HOW WILL I DEFINE MYSELF? WHERE WILL MY SOUL GO WHEN I DIE?”.
* I really wanted to say ‘cylon’ but was fully aware that only 3% of you would have got that reference.
** Or maybe I won’t eat it. Today I ran into a parent who I hadn’t seen in over a year. Her exact words to me “Oh, brandy! Hi there. I almost didn’t recognize you. You look so much… fuller”. FULLER. FULLER. Why, the hell would you use those words?! FULLER? Sigh. Between that and the beauty magazines, I’m feeling the size of a Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade float. When I’m wearing all the same clothes I wore last year. Ladies and gentlemen, just… let’s put it out there. NEVER use the word ‘FULLER’ to describe a girl. (Although H.A.D., bless his heart, continues to insist that ‘FULLER’ means ‘RADIANT’, we both know THAT’S NOT WHAT IT MEANS).
And yes, I’m sorry for all the CAPS ATTACK but it was necessary today.