25 things about me.

I live in two distinct worlds. The outside world and the inside world. I love both of them and wouldn't trade either for anything. There are a few things present in both, one of which is God, another is music. You may get a glimpse of the inside if you hear me sing when no one is around. You are actually reading more about the inside than the out. Congrats. And Why am I doing this???
Patrick and I have been married for 11 years, he is my rock and my joy and my passion. There is no one who drives me crazier, no one I love more, and no one I would rather fight with or for.
I have a big family with lots of siblings each of whom I would easily give my life for. Like my sister said, this fact has shaped who I am, it has given me a strange support system and taught me about life. Dramatic AND True.
I have always had a relationship with God, just not one with Jesus. That has changed as I figure out what real love actually is. I loathe and love Christianity at the same time. CS Lewis has helped.
I am stupidly curious. This has subsided as I get older, and now I am intelligently stupidly curious. I want to know what people think of me, and I don’t want to really know all at the same time. I shouldn’t care, but I do. Then I hate myself for caring. Really, I am just neurotic.
I love to read philosophy books, I love history. I also like a candy store novel, too. I don’t like pop psychology or philosophy. Sorry Malcolm Gladwell.
I read really fast. One summer I read more books at the Tremont Library than Heather Green, the girl who ALWAYS read the most books. That same summer I also beat Carissa Shafer in the Tennis Ladder but only because she didn't show up and had to forfeit. I always leave that part out of the story.
I was ridiculed as a child for being different. I am ridiculed as an adult for being different. The difference is now I actually like who I am.
I have heard that one should live with no regrets. That's ridiculous. I have made huge life altering mistakes that I regret frequently. I have learned a lot of hard lessons and have also forgiven myself. I have a little bitterness in my life. I hide it. Badly.
I loved my bedroom when I was a child. It had yellow ruffle curtains and a hard tile floor. Nothing matched despite our attempts to make it into the catalogue look. I had a big closet stuffed with neat things like old clothes and toys and papers that were fun to look through.
I am very tactile. I love to feel things like paper, heavy pens, fabric, skin, hair. There is nothing better than to climb into bed, breathe and feel. Yeah Baby!
I practice a Benign Dictatorship style of parenting. I am starting to feel it might be a mistake. I think I am supposed to be teaching them to make decisions on their own. I fear they may want to become non benign dictators in their own lives. Dear God they do make me laugh.
13 Is my favorite number. I was born on a 13. I am a little narcissistic. Haven’t you noticed?
My favorite color is yellow. But not neon or super bright yellow. I like sunlight influenced yellow, butter yellow: Real butter, not fake. Then I like blue and green. I love Delft Blue. Ohh and Lapis Lazuli. And Aquamarine.
I love large bodies of water. I went to Seattle at 16 by myself to stay with some friends of my parents. I sat in Edwardsville at Puget Sound for 3 hours while their family went hiking. I was on some big rocks by the sound and I just watched the water lap up and down. I listened to the rhythm, watched the waves, looked down as far as I could, and completely zoned out. No drug induced high was ever like that. It’s happened again at Kiawah Island, and in Maui. I really need to see the ocean again. When I get really depressed I start planning my escape to the ocean. Next Stop: Newfoundland.
I hate socks. I hate dry skin. Which is why I hate socks. If and when I wear socks, I must slather a mixture of Vaseline and Lubriderm lotion on my feet before I put on the dreaded garment. And pantyhose are from the devil. Please don’t put them on me when I die. Socks or pantyhose.
And about dying. I am a little paranoid about dying young. I have all these plans in place for when it actually happens. I have not really come close to death. I don’t particularly fear it, I am just curious. See # 5. Which also explains frequent bouts of recklessness when I was younger.
I drink juice in the middle of the night. I always put it into a glass. It’s ok if the glass is plastic. Milk however must always be drunk out of a glass glass. It cannot be drunk out of a plastic cup and GOD FORBID drink it out of the plastic jug. Gag me with a spoon.
I am running out of interesting things about me. So we will leave it at 19. Should have probably left it at 4 or 5. There may be a couple more.
I had 9 cars between the ages of 16 and 21. My dad danced a jig when I got married because I was off his car insurance.
I, again like my sister, have always had better rapport with men than women. I count among my friends writers, filmmakers, artists, musicians, composers, sculptors, insurance people, photographers, lawyers, builders, mothers, fathers, and actors. Some of these people have day jobs, others don’t.
I love my parents. I am very happy they are still here. I will still need them when I am 80.
My girlfriends are each and every one a high maintenance person. I wouldn’t trade the hard work I do with them for some easy go along get along person any day. They are a wonderful group of people who are brutally honest and loyal, and not intimidated or afraid to tell me when I am an idiot. They can also take my inane rationalization and tell me if I am wrong. I value each and every one of them. They are also crazy when in the same room.
I like wine. I like beer. I don’t like being drunk. Anymore. Way too much information for any one person to handle about me