I’ve been tagged. By the lovely Hotfessional. And since she’s awesome and I can’t wait to meet her in person on her next trip to Chicago so that we can
have highly intelligent conversations drink mass quantities of wine, I will do her meme. Even though I did something a little similar a few months ago.
So add those six crazy things about me from February to the following eight. And I’m sure there will be more to come. Because the crazy? It never stops. (Although right now, I can’t think of eight anything. Except beers that would be nice in my tummy.)
Anyway, here we go. Eight more reasons why I need professional help.
1. When I was little, my brother (although he vehemently denies it) told me that if you went to get your eyes checked at Pearle, they stuck needles in your eyes. I was freaked the hell out by Pearle for a good portion of my life. Even after I was old enough to realize that NO! They DID NOT do that. You damn moron! And said brother? Never got his eyes checked until very recently. So he was just an ass. And I usually end up at LensCrafters.
2. At some point in my young, insane childhood, I decided that it would be cool (read: stupid) to have all of my fingers crossed. At all times. Like even when I slept. The point, you ask? No fucking clue. Because I’m just a fucking weirdo. And I’m pretty sure I had no friends at this time either.
(Um, eight is a lot Hotfessional.)
3. I hate roller coasters. HATE. I cannot stand that stupid feeling of having your stomach go up into your throat on the big drops. Like HATE. A LOT. I used to like them. But then my brother FORCED me onto The American Eagle at Great America and I’ve hated them ever since. HATE. Heat of the sun hate.
4. I grind my teeth at night. So much so, I have to wear a specially made night guard. Because it got so bad, I ground down the enamel around the fillings on all of my molars. And it is why I have crowns on those teeth. (And because I am a queen. Royalty = crowns.) Because porcelain is indestructible. And the night guard? It makes me drool like Homer Simpson at a Krispy Kreme. I literally wake up in the middle of the night to slurp and wipe my face off. With a towel. Because it is A LOT of drool. (Hey guys! I’m single!)
(You so don’t want me to go on, do you?)
5. When I was younger. I’d say kid, but I’m pretty sure I did this when it wasn’t age appropriate. Not that it was ever age appropriate. When I was younger, to fall asleep, I used to literally bang my head on the pillow. And kind of hum. Out loud. It put me to sleep. I think it stems from when my Mom used to be a bouncer at a heavy metal club when she was pregnant with me. (No. She wasn’t.)
6. Growing up I was a diehard Bears fan. Jim McMahon will always be my idol. And don’t even try telling me how he’s an asshole. I know. And still I have the McLovin. Well, the Bears traded him in the late 80s. To San Diego. And I was immediately a Chargers fan. For a hot second. Until he ended up somewhere else. In those years, Payton retired. Ditka left. And the Bears sucked. Since I enjoy a good football game, I started watching a LOT of Buffalo Bills games. They were good and on ALL the time. So I became this HUGE Bills fan. (Yes, a bandwagoner right around all their Super Bowl losses.) I loved Jim Kelly. (I have a thing for quarterbacks.) And I watched all the games I could, including all those horrible Super Bowls. When Thurman Thomas forgets his helmet on the first play, fate has decided that today? You will be bitch-slapped on a national stage and today will not be your day to win the Super Bowl. Ever. But after EVERY Super Bowl loss, I cried. CRIED. SOBBED! Like a fucking baby. Like my first born was riding on the game. People, this was the early 90s. At the very least, I was 14. (My mom deserves a damn medal for dealing with me.)
7. Before I started Weight Watchers back in 2003, I didn’t eat vegetables. A salad once in awhile. Or corn. That? Was it. But when you’re ready to eat your damn arm off from the HUNGER, you’ll try just about anything that will put food in your belly that is zero points. I now eat beans (all kinds), carrots, broccoli, asparagus and a host of others. And damn, I was missing out.
8. Most people call me KJ. That is the most commonly used nickname for yours truly. But this didn’t start until college. Apparently we’re not into the initials thing in the Midwest. Anyway, prior to college every single friend in high school called me Martha. Why, you ask? Because one day during band camp (yes, really.) (And no, I didn’t play the flute. And our band camp was NOTHING like that. We actually marched on a football field outside in the hot sun in August for 12 hours a day. Good times.) Anyway, one day during band camp, one of the assistant directors, Mr. Weiner (yes, like Oscar Mayer. And yes, real name) was getting people’s names wrong all day. So I was all “what’s my name?” (And not in a prison movie like fashion. I did not end that question with bitch.) Since Mr. Weiner is a funny man (wouldn’t you be living with that name all your life?), he decided that right then and there, my name would be Martha. And it stuck. For three damn years of high school.
Whew. That was tough. And I’m not going to tag anyone. Because this is too much like work. But if you happen to have time on your hands and want to participate, feel free to leave your link in the comments. So we can all laugh and point. I mean, enjoy.