Stream of conciousness... & a little bit about me.

I don't really know what would be an appropriate segue from Mike's sad post {it is so sad, & reminds me of similar though less severe incidents I have witnessed}, so I suppose random thoughts will work- things that don't really have a theme, fall under a label, or fit in anywhere but in a pile of rubble that needs to be said. Sometimes, I'm just a quirky person. Perfect example- I tap airplanes twice before getting on, preferably with my right hand. I don't know how it started. Maybe I thought that if the side of the plane fell off, it probably wasn't a great idea to get on. Maybe I just wanted to make sure it was solid. Either way, I've done it for years, & can't seem to stop. It's one of the more OCD things I do. Sometimes I have to be discreet when I do it, but it is always done. Strange. But really- I like routine. I like order. This sometimes means that I don't like going to bed with the closet doors open, especially if my closet is not just how I like it {shirts organized by color, then sleeve length- oh, & then solid colors must go before patterns if possible}. I prefer organized over any sort of mess. If I'm incredibly stressed with a thousand things to do, I'll clean out my hallway closet first, because how can I possibly get anything done when I know that my cookbooks are in disarray? Oh- & probably not related, but I have a tough time making friends. Especially with girls. I have no idea why this is, but I'm borderline shy. I'm nice, but not bubbly. I'm not very good at chit-chat. This is especially weird, considering that much of my job is spent working with strangers {& I do just fine}. Maybe someone just needs to pay me to make friends? I really do wish I was good at making them. Speaking of making things- I love dessert {especially creme brule or chocolate molten cakes}, but I really love breakfast. I could eat breakfast three meals a day. I love Kashi cereal, crepes, German Pancakes, Belgium Waffles, granola, my mom's blueberry muffins, you name it. While Mike prefers savory for breakfast, I like it sweet. Oh, & of course I love Pinkberry {for any meal of the day, really, maybe even breakfast}, but I have really cold sensitive teeth, & an accidental bite into a cold raspberry is just about the end of me {I've had fluoride for a few months now to help curb this problem, but I just haven't been able to find the half hour to actually use it}. I'm still strong in the personal-hygiene area though, despite my damaged enamel. I'm a body wash person, through & through. I prefer the big Oil of Olay extra-moisturizing bottles from Costco. Bar soap grosses me out {but yet I LOVE the way Mike smells, sans anything additive post-shower}. I don't use shaving cream when I shave my legs. It's an extra mess that I don't feel the need for {as long as I have super-sharp razors}. I bet I've had the same bottle in my shower for the last 2 years. My sisters probably think I'm crazy for this, but that's okay. Speaking of which, I love my sisters best, & don't think I will ever find better friends {Kera, Cara & Erin included}. So maybe I do have hope in the female-friendship landscape after all, because I get along great with all of these lovely ladies. And lovely- my toes are not. My pinkie toes are a little crooked, but that doesn't stop pedicures from being one of my favorite ways to pamper myself. I LOVE having pretty toes. It makes me feel more put-together no matter what I'm wearing- even sans makeup and with sweatpants. Pink toes just make it better. Oh- but without makeup... I have a big scar under my neck from three surgeries when I was five {thanks to a recurring ductile cyst, & a doctor that had the surgical skills of a four year old playing "hospital"}- It looks like someone tried to cut my head off, but my mom says no one ever notices. Not sure I believe this, but makeup helps anyway. I'll have to post a picture of when I looked like a mummy, with a full-head cast & just my ponytail sticking out. My first memory after that surgery was drinking juice through a straw in the hospital. Apple juice. I didn't like it. Have I ever mentioned I'm not really a juice person? I don't like apple juice {but love apple cider}. I like orange juice, & grapefruit juice... Okay- maybe I'm a juice person who doesn't like drinking apple juice. In any case- Oddly enough, I don't like eating whole fruit, but I love steamed vegetables {but think that V8 juice is the most disgusting thing ever made- likely stemming from a time when my Grandpa babysat us & made us drink V8 with our pizza. I almost threw up}. I like all the food that we eat at the lake {fresh fish, veggies, etc}. Amazingly enough, despite all of the meals on the deck, I've never been stung by a bee, but have heard that it really hurts. I don't like things that hurt, period. I hate getting shots. I hate going to the dentist {sorry, Dad}. Oh- & I dropped out of cheerleading tryouts the day before the finals because I was too scared I'd get cut. I've always regretted not trying {although I'm glad I escaped the inevitable drama that seemingly always ensues with girl's cheerleading squads}. I don't like drama, which is maybe why I've gravitated away from large groups of girls. Maybe I had bad experiences in high school? Maybe my two roommates in college hating me {because they both had crushes on Mike at one time} was just too upsetting? Who knows. Oh- & drama? I had dinner with a highschool friend the other night who I have not seen or spoken to in 6 years {thank you, Facebook}. It was a total blast from the past, complete with updates on all of my close friends with whom I immediately disconnected from upon graduation {with good reason}. It was definitely an interesting experience to talk with her... but fun.

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That's pretty much it.