Everyone has a junk drawer. I’m ridiculous/organized/anal/OCD and even I have one. Sometimes the contents are like little presents that I’d forgotten to give myself like the red dragon iron on patch that I found last week or the sparkly barrette that I had assumed the dog ate. Sometimes the contents are suckery (not to be confused with fuckery) like the overdue mastercard bill or expired coupon. My brain also has it’s own little junk drawer, or more aptly, pocket of misc thoughts enclosed in the slippery jello like membrane in my skull. Yeah, junk drawer just sounds better, especially for anyone who happens to be eating a bowl full of red jello right now. I think my recent homicidal tendencies have something to do with the junk drawer being full. No more room for the endless stream of crap that floats around my brain. I cannot write a decent post and I haven’t even touched any of my other writing so it’s time for a purge…. I will apologize in advance for boring some of you into a coma.
I HATE when people say seen vs. saw and the word samwhich makes me violent.
My middle name comes from the back of a Beatles album and my brother once took a chunk of hash off of my parents dresser to bring for grade 2 show & tell. I shouldn’t be, but I am absurdly proud of these facts.
In grade 7 I held the record for most black eyes in a school year. (36)
I am a list maker. I have made a list of the lists that I need to make.
I’m getting my wisdom teeth out in June and I am scared of the general anesthetic. Would it be too dramatic to write long goodbye letters to those I love just in case?
I am ok with blood and guts and have seen my fair share up close. Snot makes me nauseous though.
As a young teen I once ran down the street throwing knives at my brother and his friend Dave. I was aiming for real.
Through out my life I have made an inordinately large number of people cry.
I know that I could kill someone if I had to. No question.
I worry that I will never quit smoking.
I am wearing black heels, a black pencil skirt and a low cut fitted white dress shirt right now and I feel like one of the secretaries off of mad men.
I have a bf that I still get butterflies about after a year which astounds me. The fact that he puts up with my antics is even more incredible.
I can keep a secret forever. And a grudge.
The end.
