In my vast attempt into writing more often than I do, I started a 31 Day Blog Challenge. That doesn’t mean I blog every day (because let’s be honest, I won’t), but helps me to write more often. You might want to start at Day 1 for a better understanding of what I’m doing.
Today is “20 Facts About Me”. Since I’m trying to add “stuff to the fluff” I’m going to try and list some things that not everyone might know about me. Does that mean that I’m about to dish on all of my secrets? No….yes…..sort of. I could just make a list of 20 normal things like my favorite color and dog breed. But, since I began this blog as a place to put truth and be honest, telling you my favorite color is black might not be that helpful….but then again, saying my favorite color is black tells you at least a little about me….right?
- My favorite color is black. And blue. And green. I realize this is an easy one to start out with because, let’s be honest: I don’t know how else to start this list.
- I’m getting married in 47 days. If you don’t know by now, I’m changing my last name and forever gluing my life to someone else’s. Am I scared? I used to be. I had two weeks at the beginning of January where I was terrified. Terrified of messing up his life by being the girl he picked. Thanks to my fiance, I’m no longer terrified. Just excited that I get to be with him for the rest of my life. And I think that’s a pretty awesome thing.
- I am a missionary kid. I grew up in Sarajevo, Bosnia, and went to the bosnian public school for four years of my life. Yes, I do speak Bosnian, and yes, I miss the fact that I have no one to speak the language with. It’s sad that I miss the mountains and the food and the language more than I miss the people. Maybe that makes me a bad missionary kid.
- I suck at friendships. There have been WAY too many friendships that I have let die because of the “out of sight, out of mind” rule. I also tend to get bossy or needy or I don’t try hard enough, and suddenly…. I’ve lost my best friend. Never intentionally, but one way or another, it happens. The girl I spent the majority of high school with is in college now, and we haven’t spoken in two years. I still miss her all the time, and honestly don’t know what happened between us. If I knew maybe I could fix it. I thought about inviting her to the wedding, but I honestly didn’t know if she would ever consider speaking with me again, much less come to the wedding. And even if she DID show up…I wouldn’t know what to say.
- I’m terrible at video games. My poor fiance is going to marry a girl who doesn’t play them and doesn’t really want to learn. I just want to skip forward to the part where I’m decently good and can whoop his butt.
- I love to make cake, just not eat it. I would much rather make a beautiful double strawberry cake with strawberry preserve filling and pink champagne buttercream icing, than actually eat a slice. I mean, I’ll definitely eat cake. But the only reason the cake ever gets finished is because of my roommate.
- I get depressed sometimes. I wrote a piece called Lines a little bit ago, and it was kind of a way to make sense of what I was feeling, and maybe tell people what was going on. I used to cut as well, and every once in a while I think about doing it again. Sometimes I give in. The only people who know about it are close friends. If my family reads this post, it’ll be the first time they find out.
- I’m a dog person. I absolutely love dogs!! Not the small rat-like ones, but golden retrievers, shepherds, and CORGIS. It’s a problem really. Every time me and my fiance pass a dog, he usually ends up dragging me away muttering, “You can’t have a dog. You can’t have a dog.” I already have a golden retriever, Miracle, but she lives with my parents right now, so I don’t see her too often.
- I’m a mom. Sort of…not really. I have quite a few adopted children, but the three that I actually think of as my kids are Margo, Noah, and Avery. Cheshire and I adopted them from camp last summer, and they are officially the best kids a non-mom could ask for. Margo and Noah are both writers and Avery is a theater girl. I’m so immensely proud of all of them. Nobody in this world has it easy, and it’s really hard to keep going when you feel like crawling into the woods to die. All my kids have dealt with some pretty hard stuff, and they still get up every day and fight. They’re amazing.
- I hate the phrase “My pleasure.” I realize it’s a Chick-Fil-A thing, and I still hate it. To me, if I hear it at Chick-Fil-A, it’s fine. They are required to say that because it’s part of the Chick-Fil-A experience. Cool. Whatever. But if I’m outside of Chick-Fil-A and I say “oh thank you” and you say “my pleasure”, I will immediately assume you used to work at Chick-Fil-A and it has been ingrained into your skull to say it. You don’t actually mean that it is your personal pleasure to hold that door for me, but that it’s not a problem for you and you don’t mind doing it. It doesn’t come across as thoughtful, it comes across as a habit.
- I am a mermaid. I realize that I don’t have a tail. And I realize I can’t breathe under water. But in my soul, I’m still a mermaid.
- I believe in Santa Clause. Don’t sit there and explain it to me, because you won’t change my mind. It’s not about believing that a fat little man in a red suit flies around the world in one night to bring everyone presents. It’s that I don’t like living in a world where magic doesn’t exist.
- My dream job as a kid was to be a vet. Mostly because of horses. The moment I found out I’d have to be in school for longer than four years, I changed my mind and went to Bible college instead.
- I smoke a pipe. Yep. It’s a thing. I don’t smoke it very often, but when I do, I’m usually sitting out on the back porch with Cheshire and we’re discussing theology and drinking wine. My mother hates that I do this.
- I threw up every night of my fourth grade year. First of all I should say that I didn’t have an eating disorder. It was my last year of Bosnian public school and my grades had dropped to almost all F’s. I was stressed the the max, and my body handled all that stress and worry by throwing up all the food I ate. I used to pray that God would just take away the sickness if I promised to spend a whole day throwing up in ten years. I used to sleep in the bathroom all the time because laying in bed just waiting for a wave of nausea was never fun. We thought I was allergic to tomato sauce for a while (since that was the food that seemed to trigger it so much) but it wasn’t until much later my mom realized what it was. Once I started homeschooling in 5th grade, I stopped being sick all the time. My parents were around much more, and my grades went back up. Every once in a while, when I’m getting really stressed out, my body handles it by throwing up. It’s probably the only reason I never dealt with an eating disorder. I spent way too much time involuntarily throwing up…why would I ever want to purposefully do it to myself?
- I’m afraid I’ll never be able to have kids. I don’t know why. There’s no specific reason, and it’s just a weird thing I worry about. I think it mostly stems from the false idea that you aren’t a real woman until you’ve become a mother.
- I close my eyes on the first drop of a roller coaster. As much as I love them, I can’t handle the first drop. But once that part is over, I’m perfectly fine.
- I don’t vote. I voted once when I first turned 18 as a “hey look I can vote now” sort of thing. I don’t remember who I voted for. I’ve been lectured for not voting by my mother and by my in-laws, but until I feel the NEED to vote (as in, put in my say for something/someone I believe in), I’m going to stay home while you proudly wear your “I VOTED” sticker.
- I cry over non-existent characters. I think this is a writer/reader problem. I get way too attached to people who aren’t real. Sometimes I care more about them than I do real people.
- I am a closet health nut. Gotcha!! No, I hate eating healthy. I’d rather just eat pudding.
Well there you go. 20 things you now know about me. Whew! That was easier than I thought it would be. I suppose adding “stuff to fluff” is easy when you are honest with yourself first. If I can admit the hard stuff as well as the normal good stuff, then maybe it makes each day better. One post at a time.