100 Things

1. I was born on September 18, 1966. In the Hamptons on Long Island.
2. I lived in Cocoa Beach, Florida for my first four years. My dad worked on the Apollo missions at Cape Kennedy.
3. I was reading and writing at three years of age. That’s right, I was a hot geek even then. By the time kindergarten rolled around they were reading Dr. Seuss’ ABC Book and I’m all, “Please, Dr. Seuss is so pedantic. He peaked at ‘Green Eggs & Ham.’”
4. I wore glasses from 18 months of age on. No shit. I have no idea how they measured a 1-1/2 year old’s eyesight, but so be it.
5. Speaking of eyes, I have a lazy eye. It moves on its own, especially when I’m not wearing my glasses. I hate it. It bothers me a bit looking at someone with a lazy eye…I mean, where the fuck am I supposed to look? Ridiculous, yes…I mean, I HAVE a lazy eye, hello? Anyway, that’s the long way of saying I always think people hate looking at my eyes. Because that lazy fucker will bug them.
6. In the Bizarre But Related category, because of #5 I can move either eye independently of the other. I can cross either eye while the other remains straight ahead. On purpose. What? That’s a useful skill! Totally freaked out the girls on the playground. Hell, it STILL freaks out the girls on the playground.
7. When I was 1-1/2, I used to dance in my diaper on the coffee table in my living room. My favorite song was “Sugar, Sugar” by The Archies. Cut the record off the back of a box of Alpha Bits cereal. Even then I was dancing in my underwear. God, I was ahead of my time.
8. I had five long years of orthodontic work. Braces. Retainers (lost 7 of them). Elastic bands. The fucking headgear. Which I had to wear in school. Yes, I was that kid. Poor little shit, I never had a chance.
9. I’m 5′7″ or 5′8″ depending on who measures me. Not tall, that’s the point.
10. I ate nothing but peanut butter and jelly (jam) sandwiches for lunch for years. YEARS. One time a babysitter tried to make me eat vegetable soup (blecch!) and I held out for hours. Give. Me. The. P. B. J. Bitch.
11. I like to play (and watch) poker. Specifically, Texas Holdem, which is by far the most popular game out there now. I don’t make any claims to how great I am. I’d say I’m probably in the middle of the pack, talent-wise. Not about to plunk down $10,000 to play in a Vegas tournament, though, that’s for sure. Thing is, if it wasn’t for the card cameras on TV that let you see the players’ hole cards, it would be as boring to watch as paint drying.
12. I don’t play any instruments. Except maybe for the kazoo. I took a year of clarinet in 6th grade, but hated it. More about why in a minute, but I was totally pissed that they wouldn’t let me play the trombone. Course, I was maybe 2′3″ at the time and had arms no longer than that of a Barbie doll, but still. The trombone is bad-ass! It’s got all those slidey-bits and things.
13. I suck at sports. Name the sport, I suck at it. For this reason, I hate sports. I used to have nightmares (still do) about having to go to physical education class in school every day…playing football, basketball, baseball, all those fucking things that I had no clue how to play. Never learned the rules of the sports because I hated them so much.
14. I am probably a big spoiled sport. I don’t like doing anything I’m not good at, or that I don’t have any inclination toward. It’s a horrible habit – if I can’t do something good right away, I pretty much quit and never try it again. Unless we’re talking about sex.
15. I have always had a rather warped sense of humor, from ever since I can remember. It’s gotten me in trouble many times, and I’m sure it will again. If anyone can stick his foot in his mouth, it’s me.
16. My official mental diagnoses: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), severe deppressive disorder, bipolar disorder, and enormous penis disorder. What? That’s mental…it’s totally in my head. So to speak.
17. I graduated high school in Alamogordo, New Mexico. Yes, I’m from New York, and I was pretty much raised there until I was 15. Then we moved to New Mexico, over Christmas break in school. Sucked. I hated it at first. Tiny little town of 35,000 people, not a freaking thing to do. Kind of like Sebring (where I live now), but much smaller and less exciting. Funny thing is, now I love the place. I miss the mountains.
18. I’m not particularly fond of change of any kind. Thus, moving schools in the midst of 10th grade was as close to a nightmare as I could get at that time. It took me a long time to make friends and I had to leave my NY buddies behind, only to freak out about finding NEW friends in Alamoghetto.
19. I am much more comfortable around a group of women than I am a group of men. I have less in common with the men, it seems. Don’t like sports, don’t give a shit about cars…what is there to talk about with guys? Hooters girls? That I can do. Most of my best friends are women (hello, Hilly) and it’s why (even though I’m socially phobic) I’d much rather face crowds at BlogHer than crowds at…um, BlogHim.
20. And yes, that’s right. I’m socially phobic, too. I know, it’s hard to believe because I’m so wild and crazy all over here, but it’s true. I fight to leave the house. Glad I fought my instincts to stay home last night, or I would have missed an awesome time with Bossy and everyone else. Some might call it “shy,” but it’s really an extreme thing at times. Much more advanced than merely shy. Makes me avoid all sorts of potential social settings. Suppose that makes it weird that I sing karaoke in front of people, but that’s another number altogether.
21. I will NOT be late to a movie. If I miss any of the film previews then I start getting a rather nasty twitch. Much easier to just leave and go to another movie or the next showing. I’m not kidding. The previews are the best part of the entire movie-going experience. You know, besides being anally raped at the concessions stand.
22. I do NOT share my drink with anyone, nor will I drink out of someone else’s glass (unless I get the first sip). It grosses me out, can’t do it. I can make out with you and do the Two-Tongue-Tango with no problem. Just don’t make me take a sip of your water. *shivering* OK, if you’re stranded in the middle of the desert and I happen to come across you and you’re dying of thirst, I’ll let you drink out of my water bottle. Um, no, that’s okay. You keep it now. Do I want a taste of your cake off of your spoon? Aw, that’s sweet. Thank you, but are you psychotic?
23. When eating cereal, I cannot take a bite without first going through the bowl with my spoon, submerging every single piece of cereal under the milk at least twice.
24. Something on me is always moving, usually my legs or my feet. Constantly shaking or tapping. It’s rather difficult for me to sit still. It annoys the crap out of me in those rare moments that I’m conscious of it. I don’t know what it is, there’s comfort in the movement or something. When I first heard of “restless leg syndrome” I thought “that’s me!” Because yeah, what I need is another fucking syndrome.
25. I’m such a perfectionist that it often feels better to me not to start something at all, rather than not do the job just right. This is why my bedroom is a disaster area. Total clutter. It’s not that I like it, I just don’t know where to begin. And I know I can’t do it all in a short amount of time, probably not even a day. So it’s better just to leave it.
26. It’s because of #25 that I’m a damn good editor. Don’t worry, though, I deliberately flip off my internal editor when I’m reading people’s blogs. For the most part. If there are 12 misspelled words per sentence, though? Yeah, I’m going to let you have it. I often have to fight myself to keep from rewriting people’s shit. Hell, I often have to fight myself to keep from rewriting MY shit.
27. I love chewing gum. My favorite is Stride because that flavor really does last an awfully long time. I cannot, however, chew only one piece at a time. In fact, I must chew three pieces at a time. That is the perfect amount of gum: three pieces. This leads to one disappointment per pack because each pack of Stride gum (and Orbitz) contains 14 pieces of gum. Not 15. 14. That means somewhere along the consumption of that pack I can only have two pieces of gum at one chewing. Yes, I think about these things. You don’t?
28. I swallow my gum. I never, ever spit it out. Shut up. I’ve been doing it for as long as I’ve been running and I’m just fine. It doesn’t just sit there in your intestines. It passes through your system. Listen, I chew it, it’s food, I swallow it.
29. I sing to the frog that is sitting out there on my sidewalk every night when I go outside to smoke. He likes it. His name is Freddie (in honor of the New Zoo Revue children’s program from when I was a wee tyke). He doesn’t ever really give me any constructive criticism. In fact, he rarely says a word to me now that I think of it. Perhaps he doesn’t like the singing, after all. Could just be hooked on the nicotine.
30. I talk in my sleep, sometimes with amazing enunciation, and often in foreign accents. No kidding. And it feels weird, when you talk in your sleep, almost like you’re talking through molasses. Yeah, I often dream where I have a really hard time getting the words out of my mouth. It’s because I’m literally forming those words in real life. I cannot be held responsible for anything coming out of my mouth when I’m unconscious. I’m probably confessing to all kinds of State secrets in my sleep.
31. I have a somewhat elastic voice and have always been able to do different characters and voices, including foreign accents. Bugs Bunny? You bet. Kermit the Frog? Got it down. But my girls’ favorite has always been “the baby voice.” It’s pretty much like Elmo, but when they were little girls, it cracked them up routinely. In fact, I had to do the baby voice a LOT, sometimes for hours. That’ll give the ol’ vocal chords a workout.
32. I’ve been writing for literally as long as I can remember. Crafting stories for just as long, I think. People often say that they can’t write worth shit, and yes, some of them are absolutely right. However, it’s like anything else. I think it’s best summed up thusly: it’s difficult to do something for decades and not master it.
33. I paint, too, but haven’t picked up a brush in over a year. I was looking over some of the 2HT archives earlier and seeing that much of the graphics – including pictures of my paintings – are gone. Which sucks because all those photos are on my old broken computer. Anyway, I really enjoy watercolors. Took a class a couple of years ago and got started with the brushes again…first time I’ve painted since high school. And THAT was quite some time ago.
34. I sing. Not professionally, of course, though I have made some money at it, thanks to the marvel that is karaoke. Won a few contests and even moonlighted as a karaoke host in Dallas for a while. It’s weird, because I’m a touch socially phobic (sometimes more than a touch), but I can get up and sing with no problem. Wasn’t always that way, of course. In the beginning, I was terrified. Thank God for beer and Jameson’s.
35. I’m pretty much self-taught in all things computerey. Most of it comes naturally to me now, but I’ve spent many an hour looking up online help, figuring things out, pushing buttons and clicking menus. I taught myself most every program I’ve ever used. I used to program my own web sites, using Notepad to handcode the HTML. Even though I CAN figure it out, I don’t want to any more. That’s why I hired the beautiful Karen to redesign this blog for me.
36. Because I’m self-taught in most computer stuff, I’ve often taught classes in various programs. Microsoft Word, Internet Explorer (ugh), etc. I’m pretty good at teaching, which is again weird to me since people kind of freak me out at times.
37. I know my 80’s music. Yes, I am a child of the 80’s. I graduated high school in 1984 and my personal theory is that we’re all fairly well-versed in any music that was big during our high school years. That’s because music is so key to us in those formative times. Plus, I was a radio DJ for 4 years during that time and so I know my shit. Now? Meh, not so much. I’m not into a lot of new stuff, although there’s plenty that I like.
38. I can draw, too. Fairly well, though I think it’s rather primitive sketching, at best. Mostly I love to doodle, but I used to draw cartoons and comic strips a lot. Comics are the best, I think, because you get to write the story AND draw it out. The ultimate in artistic expression as far as I’m concerned.
39. I probably have some innate musical gift, too, but I’ve never really explored that. I do know that I can rather easily sound out a tune on the piano, no music. I can’t read music, anyway. Does that count as another thing? Shit, guess not.
40. I have a built-in bullshit detector. I can smell it a mile away. If someone starts trying to feed me nothing but bullshit, I’m probably going to call them on it, even though I’m pretty much anti-confrontational most of the time.
41. I hate lima beans. I’ve eaten many of them over the years – pretty much forced to growing up. I’m convinced that succotash (a mixture of corn and lima beans) was invented by the World Lima Bean Council to trick people into eating the Devil’s Legume. I’m happy that I’m all growed up now so I can control my own lima bean destiny.
42. I hate grapefruit. They taste nasty and sour and I don’t know how anyone can stand them. Oddly enough, I like Fresca, which is a grapefruit soda. I can’t explain it. Similarly, when I was little I hated onions but loved onion rings. I suppose my Italian genes finally hit puberty because I totally dig onions these days.
43. I hate seafood. Yes, all of it. “But what about shrimp?” people ask me. Does shrimp come from the water? Yes, yes it does. Then I HATE it. I also hate when people hear about my disdain for seafood and say, “Well, that’s because you haven’t had it prepared the right way.” To them I say, “You’re a moron, but that’s because you haven’t used your brain the right way.”
44. I hate licorice. Absolutely revolting. I was forever ditching my black jellybeans every Easter – still do, on the odd occasion I eat jellybeans. Now they have to be sugar-free. And for some reason, they actually make sugar-free black jellybeans. Gross. And yes, that means I hate Uzo, too. And anisette. Anything that tastes like licorice will make me puke. Or want to puke, which is even worse.
45. I hate grits. Yes, I live in the South, but I’m not a Southerner. Grits are just blecch. I’ve tried them over and over again, thinking I’m missing something. I’m done trying them. I know that tastebuds can change over time, but my grits tastebuds just ain’t evolving. Never gonna happen.
46. I hate mean people. There’s just no cause for being nasty. Sure, I can be an asshole at times…I think everyone is capable of that. But for the most part I keep my Inner Asshole at bay. When I see someone treat a waiter or waitress poorly, I just cringe. A total babe turns flat-out repulsive to me if she’s a vindictive sniping little bitch. Have some fucking courtesy, respect, and understanding. They go a long way. And if you simply cannot control your mouth, perhaps you should stay in your cave and shut the fuck up.
47. I hate American Idol. It is absolutely shitty television. I don’t care if you like it, either. The only part even remotely worth watching is the audition process because those people are so bad it’s good. The rest of it? It’s like a bad karaoke competition.
48. I hate spiders. I hate most all bugs, actually, if they’re in my house. Bugs belong outside, not in. And I’m not one of those people that feels like you shouldn’t kill a living creature. They’re beneficial to the environment, etc. etc. Bullshit. If I see a spider outside, fine. But if there’s one in my house, that mutherfucker is going to die, probably ending up a stain on the wall.
49. I hate needles. I could never be a heroin addict because there’s no way I’d be injecting myself all the time. This is ironic since I’m a diabetic and just had to start taking insulin in September of 2007. Yes, I have to give myself shots every night before bed. Yes, I hate it and have to psych myself up before sticking myself in the gut, even though it doesn’t hurt.
50. I hate Dave Matthews. Not the person, I’m sure he’s a perfectly nice fellow. But I cannot STAND his singing voice. Irritates me more than nails dragging along a chalkboard. To me, he sounds like a cat whose tail is being intermittently pinched by a rocking chair rolling on top of it. I would sooner listen to Tiny Tim or even Britney Spears. I know, that’s saying a lot.
51. Knock on wood, I have never broken a bone. That’s pretty amazing, I think, considering some of the things I’ve done in my life. I have, however, torn ligaments in my left foot. I tripped down several stairs when I was in technical school in the Air Force. Wore a cast and used crutches for six weeks, which was kind of nice, since it meant I didn’t have to march to school during that time. Was a pain in the ass bathing, though. I admit I milked it for as long as I could. I hated marching. Really, it’s amazing I made it in the Air Force. I’m so not a conformist in group-think.
52. My first computer was a Timex-Sinclair 1000. That was 1982, I think. It cost $99 and hooked up to your television. I learned BASIC programming using that sucker. You used a cassette drive to save and load programs. I programmed an automatic Dungeons & Dragons character generator. Very cool. You know, in a completely geeky way.
53. I’m part Irish, part Italian, and the rest is unknown. My father was adopted at a young age so the Erikson comes from his adopted family (Swedish). Odds are good that he’s Jewish since his birth name was Solomon. So that means I’m a great drinker, have fast-growing hair follicles, and am fully qualified to whine my ass off.
54. I started shaving when I was 14. I was forced to. Seems that nobody liked my baby hair mustache. I thought it was cool. Now I hate shaving so much that I only do it a couple of times a week, sometimes less. Some find that sexy in a man; I just find it lazy. Oops, I’m not supposed to call myself lazy, according to half a dozen therapists.
55. I have three unfinished manuscripts. The first is my autobiography, which I haven’t touched in years. The other two are novels (one a sci-fi mystery kind of thing, the other a romantic comedy) that I began during National Novel Writing Month. All three are stuck on my old crashed computer’s hard drive. I’m getting itchy to do something with them, but will have to see about recovering the drive first. Yeah, procrastinate much?
56. I’m a conservative, politically speaking. Some might say I’m actually a moderate, I don’t know. I just know that in all of the years I’ve been voting (ever since I voted for Reagan when I was freshly 18), I have never voted for a Democrat. Yes, that means I helped to elect the bozo we have in office now. I DID vote for Perot in 1992 because I wasn’t happy with either party and wanted to make a statement. A statement was made, but I still think it was a wasted vote. Third parties never make it in America. Never have, never will. This irks me. I mean, would you be satisfied if you went into a grocery store and only had two choices of cereal or two choices of soda? Nope, me either.
57. I have frequent nightmares, many of them so intense they wake me up, and I’m a pretty sound sleeper. Sometimes I’ll wake myself up because I’m screaming, not only in my dream but in reality. I’ve also woken up because I fell off my bed a few times, kicking and fighting off my phantasmal attackers. A psychiatrist once asked me if I knew how many nightmares the average person has. I guessed three or four a month. He told me, “One a year.” That number still shocks me. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but regardless, I have at least three or four bad dreams a week. Part of the PTSD, I’m sure.
58. I hate hearing about other people’s dreams. It bores me to tears. I’d rather watch meat thaw. I hate reading about dreams in people’s blogs. I hate dream scenes in TV shows and movies because dreams don’t freaking matter! You’ll see something happen in a dream and then see the person wake up, which nullifies everything that just happened. The exception maybe being “Nightmares on Elm Street,” when most of the action happens in the dreams.
59. I like being early. I used to be terminally tardy, often showing up 10-15 minutes late wherever I went. I didn’t WANT to be early because it seemed like a waste of time to just sit there for 5-10 minutes when that could have meant 5-10 more minutes of Internet time or TV. A friend told me that it was rude to be late and I’d never thought of it that way before. But I agree. When you show up late, you’re a distraction to the meeting or gathering…everyone has to stop and acknowledge your presence, and possibly catch you up on what you’ve missed. Being early is far less stressful for me, too. Yes, there are occasions when I’m late – traffic or whatnot – but I’d much rather show up two hours early for a flight than get there 45 minutes ahead. Gives me plenty of time to check in and relax in the terminal, read, have breakfast or lunch, check e-mail, etc.
60. I cannot bear to watch live television most of the time. Ever since I got Tivo a few years ago, I now have to wait until a show is 20 minutes in before I start watching it. Hilly and I share this trait and we call that 20 minutes the “Tivo Buffer.” This is the amount of time that must pass before you can start watching the show and fast forward through all of the commercial breaks without interruption. Exceptions include “Lost” and “Jeopardy” and news.
61. I always wait until the last minute to pack for a trip. I don’t like that I do this, but it always happens. I’m a procrastinator. Unfortunately, this usually means I’ve forgotten at least one thing. Sometimes it’s my insulin (which is still pretty new to me), sometimes it’s batteries for my camera. I’d like to start packing the day before instead of scrambling around doing laundry at the last minute. Maybe I’ll get my shit together this year.
62. I prefer to carry everything with me on the plane so I don’t have to wait on baggage. This hasn’t been possible in the last couple of years, because I have to take two carry-ons onto the plane: the carry-on which has my meds and insulin and syringes and my camera and some books and charger cords, etc. And my laptop bag for the laptop (cause there’s no way in hell I’m checking THAT). Then I’m left with checking a suitcase for my clothes. I think I’m leaving my laptop home for BrittCon next month. I barely touched the computer at TequilaCon and I think we’ll be running around like crazy for 48 hours in NYC, so what’s the point?
63. My favorite airport thus far is the Orlando International Airport. Why? They’ve got their shit together, that’s why. It’s well set-up, the terminals are nice and clean, AND they have FREE wifi. I think ALL airports should offer free wifi in this day and age. Paying $10 a day for Net access is just bullshit. I also like that Orlando has shops and restaurants before the security checkpoint AND after it in the terminals. When you’re a smoker and you have to go outside to smoke, it makes going through security more than once a major pain in the ass. That’s why it’s nice to have a place to hang out before going through security. If Orlando airport had a smoker’s lounge, it would be perfect.
64. I hardly ever text on my cellphone, unless I’m traveling. The last two weeks have generated TONS of texts and Twatterings and photos sent to Flickr. It’s more than I’ve ever texted before. I can finally see the use in texting. It’s especially handy when you’re at an airport or any other loud place and you can’t possibly hear anyone in a phone conversation. Plus it saves me from having to actually have protracted phone convos by just typing a nice concise text.
65. I’m navigationally challenged. When I’m going somewhere I’ve never been before there’s a certain amount of anxiety I get as a result of not knowing where the fuck I am. I always like to have maps and directions from Google Maps available, but that’s not doable all the time. When I was in Dallas last week, I rented a car and got the GPS unit with it. This helped me a LOT. Loved it. I know my way around Dallas fairly well, but lots of roads have changed…new toll roads added, etc. And I’d never driven on my own to Oklahoma, so the GPS saved my ass lots of times. I would love a GPS for my own car, but I really don’t travel enough on the road to make it worth the investment.
66. I like sitting in the aisle seats on airplanes. I used to always like the window, but now I appreciate the fuller control you get with the aisle seat. There’s generally more room, too, at least on one side of you. I like being able to get up without having to bother someone else. Sure, this means giving up some of the sweet views from the window, but I don’t care.
67. I refuse to use airplane headsets. Nowadays those are pretty much the earbud thingies and who knows WHERE those things have been? Plus, I think it’s bullshit that they charge you money to use those damn things. I bring my own earphones but rarely use them, anyway. I’d rather read or write while flying than watch TV or listen to music. Or sleep.
68. I never pay attention to the airplane safety briefing at the start of each flight. Listen, if the plane goes down you can kiss your ass goodbye. You’ll never get an opportunity to use your seat as a flotation device because you’re going to be DEAD. That said, I do really enjoy flying and think that it’s the safest form of travel.
69. I call flight attendants “air waitresses.” They say that their primary job is my safety, but if that were true they wouldn’t spend 90% of the flight rolling a drink cart down the aisle and bringing people blankets and pillows.
70. I don’t like to sleep sitting up, but I always do when I’m traveling. If I’m not driving, I’m going to fall asleep at some point. It’s the motion of the car or the train or the airplane. It’s the noises that all seem to act like white noise to me. If we’re driving a few blocks, fine, I’ll stay awake. If we’re driving for an hour, I’m zonking out, no offense. I’m sure you’re not that boring, but it’s all about me, as usual.
71. I hate when I write a numbered list of items or do a meme with many, many questions and then in the comments people refer back to the #’s in the list. Like “I so agree with #12 and cannot BELIEVE #46! I didn’t realize you could fit a #38 in there.” Because I have to go back and scroll up the page to see what the fuck they’re talking about. I realize it’s inherent with the situation…it IS a numbered list, after all, but that doesn’t make me hate it less. And I know you punks. You’re gonna do that number-referencing thing a lot in the comments now just because I said that.
72. I’m a sit-down peer. I mean, I pee sitting down whenever I can. Unless there’s a urinal. I love urinals. They make me proud to be a man. Well, at least HAPPY to be a man. So yeah, there you go. I like sitting down when I pee. Does that get me any closer to getting some pussy? I mean, I’m just about a woman, already! I’d make a great lesbian.
73. So apparently when I’m really really drunk. I mean BEYOND drunk. The kind of drunk where you masturbate in front of women that you’re not sleeping with and may have just met, THAT kind of drunk. When I’m that kind of drunk I pee in places that aren’t exactly meant for that sort of thing. I mean, they’re not even receptacles of any kind. This has happened on two nearly-public rugs. But those aren’t the ONLY times I’ve found myself naked and standing or in this case sitting in urine. Oh no, they most certainly aren’t. You’d think that these might be perceived of as life lessons and that I wouldn’t drink that much ever again. But you’d think wrong. It’s very, very RARE. But it happens.
74. I am by nature very non-confrontational. I don’t like to see people arguing, particularly when it’s a really heated argument and there’s namecalling and hairpulling going on…even in a virtual sense. I’m a “calm the waters” kind of guy. I want everyone to get along, to play nicely with one another. I’ll even go so far as to try and placate the screaming heads. Don’t get me wrong, it IS possible to get my hackles up in a knot (or whatever the hell hackles do when they’re in an excited state). I DO have a few buttons and they can be pushed. But they’re few and far between and you have to try really hard to push those buttons. Still, I can bust words with the best of them. And I will. Maybe.
75. I love having people – well, women, to be more precise – play with my hair. Love it. That’s why I love getting my hair cut, someone plays with my hair for 15 minutes. It’s like that old game 15 Minutes in the Closet…but with less tongue. I love when a woman plays around with my hair, sometimes going into a scalp massage, other times scratching my scalp playfully with her nails. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrroooooowwwwwwwwllll.
76. I love design shows. Trading Spaces? Love it. HGTV? Awesome. I won’t actually turn those shows on, but I’ll watch the living hell out of ‘em if you turn them on for me.
77. I hate Junebugs. They’re stupid beetles with wings. Seriously stupid. They fly for these tiny little jaunts and then land (most of the time) on their back, where they viciously kick their legs and try to turn themselves back over. They spend the bulk of their lives on their backs, much like Lindsay Lohan and Paris Hilton. I often flip them over to save them, but then within 60 seconds they fly again and land on their back…again. Stupid.
78. My favorite part of the Sunday newspaper are the ads for Best Buy and Circuit City. Any ads containing gadgets and computers, actually, which also includes Office Max and Office Depot. Yes, I like a few of the comics/funnies, but the first thing I go to are always the ads. Not that I have any money to spend on gadgets, mind you, but still…
79. I hate NASCAR. Any car races, for that matter. They’re stupid. I will never understand the fascination some people have for watching cars go around and around and around hundreds of times. How is that a sport? It’s DRIVING. In CIRCLES.
80. I don’t waste time in the bathroom. Not even for number two. I don’t understand people that take 30 minutes to take a shit, bringing reading material or iPhones or whatever. Listen, I wait until I have to take a dump, then I go into the bathroom, do my business, and get out. Five minutes, tops. Everyone else seems to treat shitting like it’s a casual stroll in the park.
81. I wear my heart on my sleeve, for the most part. I’ve been told many times in the past that I have a flat affect, meaning that much of the time you can’t read my emotions via my face. That’s probably true. But anyone who knows me personally (and to a large extent, anyone who reads my blog) will know I am a rather passionate person. Mix that in with being bipolar and you’ll see LOTS of emotion. Case in point: the recent blog drama that I’m done talking about. Hilly asked me if I thought I was going through a manic phase during all of that, and I’m pretty sure she’s right. Regardless, I care deeply for many people, and I care deeply about many subjects. You might not like me for voicing my opinion on certain things, but you WILL be sure of one thing: I feel.
82. I have a difficult time crying in “real life.” What I mean by that is that it’s extremely rare for me to cry unless we’re talking about some stimulus that generates the tears, like movies, TV shows, and music. I’ll tear up from time to time. Funerals will do it. Sunday, on my way home from Britt’s, I actually cried just thinking about Lisa, praying like hell she’s not going to rip my heart out. One of my favorite quotes, though, I heard from Deacon Bill at my old church in Dallas. He told me, “The moment you say ‘I love you’ is the moment you begin to say goodbye to that person.” That hit me like a ton of bricks, so profound a truth. That’s what love is, opening yourself up and becoming vulnerable. I wouldn’t have it any other way, but the fact of the matter is that the older I get, the more and more I’m going to be saying goodbye to people I love.
83. I’m smart. Apparently, genius smart. You’d never know it from my blog, perhaps, with all the naked blogging and silliness, but I have an I.Q. of 182. I would never say that to anyone because I’m not really about the bragging (but I’m running out of things to say about myself). I’m not a savant by any stretch of the imagination, but I know a lot of useless shit. Mensa asked me to join their little club, but fuck that. I’m not about mutual mental masturbation. PHYSICAL masturbation, maybe, but sitting around with a bunch of “smart people” who all KNOW they’re smart people and flaunt it around like Liberace did with his rhinestoned capes? Well, that really turns me off. My friends are smart…I love hanging around with them. But we don’t need to TALK about how smart we are.
84. I want people to like me. Sometimes I NEED them to like me, but I’ve gotten much better at controlling that aspect of my insecurities. As a kid, being bullied quite a bit, I learned how to be funny. Funny works for me. Everyone likes funny, even bullies. Didn’t keep me from getting my ass kicked on a semi-regular basis, but SOME of the bullies backed off of me when I made them laugh. It used to kill me when someone didn’t like me. Now I realize that it’s impossible for everyone to appreciate the awesomeness that is me. And I’m OK with that. Still, it hurts on occasion. The recent blog drama wounded me in a few ways. Nothing permanent, mind you, but when you put so much of your raw self out there for everyone to see and critique (like I did a couple of weeks ago), you’re bound to get some people that have some not-very-nice things to say to you.
85. I hate my teeth. It’s my Achilles heel. Yes, I’m the person responsible for them getting in such a sad and sorry shape, but I wish I could blink my eyes or wiggle my nose and create the perfect smile. They’re cracked, full of cavities, and yellowed. Because of that, I rarely smile fully so that my teeth show. Usually, it’s a closed-mouth smile. You want to hurt me? Talk about my fucked-up teeth. That’ll do it. My self-image is far from great and I fantasize that my life would improve a thousand-fold if I had a whole new pearly white set of choppers. Every time a girlfriend breaks up with me, I torture myself by dreaming that it’s because of my teeth.
86. I still love to read a newspaper. A physical, paper newspaper. I love the way it feels in my hands, I love the printed word. I even love that newspapers make your hands dirty from all the newsprint. Yes, I get a LOT of my news from TV and the InterTubes. But there’s nothing like a newspaper, especially on Sunday. Mmmm, a hot cup of coffee and the funny pages. Doesn’t get much better than that…unless I’m getting fellated while drinking coffee and reading the funny pages. I’m kidding, of course. I wouldn’t drink coffee while getting a blow job.
87. I suffer from occasional Attention Deficit Disorder. I bring this up because there are times that I cannot READ a newspaper. Just can’t do it. It frustrates the hell out of me, too, because I love to read so much. In those times, I can’t read the novel(s) I’m working on, either. It’s very difficult to read anything, including blogs, which are a daily part of my life. It’s like my brain races too fast a lot of the time…a million thoughts (often diametrically opposed) running through my brain and I can’t process all that shit at once. Hate it. Without meds, I’d never get to sleep. And oftentimes I’ll almost mentally collapse into sleep, all those thoughts racing in my head.
88. At the same time, I have a terrible habit of multitasking. I say “terrible” – it’s really a blessing AND a curse. There’s so much shit going on in my head at times that I simply CANNOT focus on just ONE thing. Even now, as I write this, I’m typing and watching Anderson Cooper on CNN. I also often carry on conversations while I’m writing AND watching TV. This annoys a lot of people because they feel like I’m not paying them the full attention they may deserve. But I AM. It’s just that I can’t sit still doing only ONE thing. Seriously, I need like five or six more Karls.
89. I think Donnie Darko sucks. The movie. I heard nothing but raves about it for YEARS and I finally watched it earlier this year. It blows. Big chunks. It’s not clever or riveting. It’s just stupid and weird. I’m all about the independent films. Love ‘em. Well, a lot of them. Donnie Darko is just awful. Now Harvey. There’s an invisible rabbit I can believe in. I guess there are a lot of people that appreciate movies simply because they’re different. Not me. I like movies that are different and GOOD. Jacob’s Ladder? Now, THAT’S different and good.
90. I hate when people slam doors or cabinet doors. Or drawers. What the fuck is wrong with you people? How much effort does it take to quietly shut a door behind you? Or to gently slide a drawer shut instead of letting it BANG closed? It’s like they have absolutely no consideration for other people in the house. My sister is like that. When I lived with her, she’d slam the cabinet doors shut and I’d hear it all the way upstairs with my bedroom door closed. I don’t get it. Bugs the ever-loving shit out of me.
91. Sometimes I can’t check the mail, which is across the street, because when I look outside there are neighbors out there. This is part of the social phobia shit. When the phobia is cresting, causing fun things such as high anxiety and insecurity, I can’t bear to think of interacting with anyone. So rather than risk a neighbor talking to me, even if it’s just “Hi,” I close the door and forget about the mail for a while. Well, I don’t forget about it, I just wait until dark to go check it. Lame, right?
92. I believe there is only one correct way to load the dishwasher. My way. Each individual dishwasher has its own correct loading sequence, mind you…I get that. But there IS only one correct way to load each dishwasher model. With mine, it’s the coffee saucers on the top shelf, and all the other plates on the bottom. There are dozens of little dishwasher rules. If someone else has loaded the dishwasher part-way, I have two options. Either rearrange everything the correct way, or – if whoever loaded the dishwasher partially is there, watching – just ignore the dishwasher until they either finish loading it themself, or they’re not looking so I can reload it correctly.
93. I bite my fingernails. I hate that I do it, too, because I often bite them down to the quick and my hands look terrible. I have quit numerous times, only to pick the habit back up when I’m nervous. Which is often.
94. I am totally addicted to my iPhone. I’m forever playing with it. When I take a smoke break, I’m always playing games on it. Right now my favorite game is a free one called iMob Online. It’s like that Mob Wars games on Facebook that I’ve never played. If you  have an iPhone, you should download iMob now. Then ADD ME to your mob. My FRIEND CODE is 144-886-434 and my Mobster’s name is Don Karlione.
95. I am a reformed impulsive shopper, but sometimes I cave to my former self. I used to spend lots of money I didn’t have on things I had to have. Then I’d often neglect whatever it was I bought, getting bored with it nearly instantly. I don’t know why I feel I HAVE to have things when these compulsions strike. Nowadays whenever I feel the Need, I do this long drawn-out thing in my head where I imagine buying the object/gadget, then picture myself with the object and how much I’m actually going to use it (or not). I’m pretty good about saying no these days. I’m told compulsive shopping is a symptom of some of my many mental maladies, but knowing that doesn’t make it any easier to defeat.
96. I vascillate between eating too much and not eating enough. There doesn’t seem to be any middle ground with me, and my gut is evidence of it. I really need to lose about 25 pounds – it would help my diabetes a lot, I know. Half the days, I’m munching away throughout the day, but the other half I don’t eat a thing until dinner. Neither is good.
97. I don’t shave every day. Sometimes I’ll go a week without shaving. Mostly because I just can’t be bothered taking 120 seconds out of my (so busy) day to worry about my facial follicles. Course, if I had a girlfriend, those 120 seconds wouldn’t be nearly so bothersome. But I don’t, so I don’t.
98. Even though I claim to be fairly intelligent, I have many guilty pleasures on TV that would indicate otherwise. I enjoy the new version of Knight Rider, like Kyle XY (ABC Family), Kath & Kim, and have yet to pass up an episode of The Greatest American Hero (in fact, I own all the episodes on DVD). I try to balance this out by drinking Guiness, reading science fiction and masturbating excessively.
99. It’s rare for me to watch a TV show without multitasking on my computer. Because I work from home these days and my job requires me to be in front of my laptop, I’m forever looking back and forth between the big-screen TV and the small-screen laptop, even if I’m just scouring my feeds for stories to write the next day.
100. I’m hot-natured. If I’m going to complain about the temperature, 9 times out of 10 it’ll be because it’s too hot. I always have to have ceiling fans going in ever room I’m in and I’d prefer to keep the thermostat down at around 65, though it’s usually at 77 because of the cost. I’d much rather snuggle up in bed with blankets than be so hot that even a sheet would be stifling.

Filed under Uncategorized | Comment (1)