11. I love to color. Always have. I used to spend a lot of time as a young girl also doing paint-by-numbers, putting puzzles together, and playing with my collection of Ultra-Man monsters. Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
  1. If your voice is weird, I secretly judge you. My ass may also explode. Hell, I may stop being friends with you over it. The L.A. baby voice, the smug, earnest Seattle-Mariners-commercial man-boy gush, Steve Raible coming all over himself over the Seahawks, the fashionista affectation, the stupid way you say “Vet-Tran,” my mom when she orders beer in pidgin English, all of it.
  2. I have a soft spot for bass players. Blame Level 42’s Mark King.
  3. You won’t catch me ordering sandwiches, American BBQ (except Carolina style), chicken strips, mac ‘n cheese, or fancy sushi (get away from me with your cream cheese crunch monsters).
  4. I enjoy watching “Counting On,” “Outdaughtered,” “Kate Plus 8,” and the “Real Housewives…” My guilty pleasure is pop culture, however controversial or moronic. It relaxes me.
  5. I’m strangely fascinated yet repelled by the dark side of human nature. Hence, my strong interest in biographies about serial killers and multiple-personalities. This explains my Stephen King book fetish. In another life, I would be one of those FBI profilers.
  6. I’m so repulsed on a physical and mental level by smoking that I can’t even say the “C” word. I say “cancer stick” instead. Even the sight of a smoker and his phallic symbol can send me to the bathroom to hurl.
  7. I have many pet peeves. But the one that is a deal breaker is if you consistently refuse to take me seriously. I spent most my childhood with people in my family who talked over me, dismissed me, and/or never gave me credit when I was right. When you do it to me habitually, I know for certain that we can never be friends.
  8. As badass as I may appear, I’m really naive. Childlike, really. You are the one who will have to point out the prostitutes and the drug dealers in the crowd, and even then, I will have a hard time believing you. You need to explain the punchline of every sexual joke, like I’ve never heard of sex. I won’t get it right off the bat. I always fight that dichotomy, choosing to believe in the best in the end. It’s a dichotomy I’ve struggled with all my life, hard as it is to believe. This may become a blog entry later.
  9. It takes me a long time to process information. I’m one of those dimwits who needs to get her hands in the mix to truly understand how to do something, a visual, hands-on learner. I always have been. I remember how to spell by intuition; if the word looks right, then it’s spelled correctly. Unfortunately, this applies to emotional trauma, even as slight as a stranger cutting me off in traffic or blasting me verbally.
  10. I fall in love easily. Too easily. At any one time, I could be in love with five different people, men and women — it doesn’t matter to me, for very different reasons… usually because they’re 1. kind, 2. funny, 3. smart, and they 4. single me out in a positive way.

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