If you knew me really well, you’d know that…
I’m a total clothes-horse. Like straight up addict.
But I’m also a thrift-store junkie. So that helps. (Or at least, this is what I tell my husband when he looks at my closet.)
I am really critical of my own appearance. I have had a hard time accepting my body or my shape or my face. I want to believe good things about the person I’ve been created to be but I struggle. A lot.
I worry about everything. In fact, the times that I DON’T worry are of such great significance that I usually celebrate them and promptly spiral into a new round of worry about why I’m not worried and about what I must be forgetting to remember to worry about.
I am a lover of God. My faith-walk can be shaky sometimes but my belief in Him never is. God is good all the time. All the time God is good.
I put ketchup on almost everything. It’s a running joke in my family.
I wish I was braver. Or tougher. Or some combination of the two.
I have been known to dumpster dive for furniture. Although, there has been no actual Diving Into a Dumpster. It’s more like Diving NEXT to a Dumpster. In fact, except for an armchair and our sofa, nothing in the house was purchased new. And if our apartment looks more like a flea market than the inside of a magazine, I guess that’s okay.
I love to go to the movies. It’s the luxury I most enjoy. I look forward to the trailers almost as much as the actual film.
Sometimes on long car trips, I pretend I’m in a music video. … Shut up. Don’t look at me with that tone of voice.
When I don’t want to do something, I imagine how I could possibly write a blog post on the topic and it makes it easier. Blogging has forced me to try new things so that this blog doesn’t get stale. That feels like a life metaphor but I’ll let someone else connect those dots. If you know…they want to.
I would do literally anything for my friends. I think loyalty is more important than neutrality and that has cost me relationships. And I don’t care. I’d rather stand up for one friend than have a hundred thousand more.
I love to spend time with other people but the second I’m alone, I obsess over the interactions we had. Was I annoying? Did I talk too much? Did that person feel cared about? I think this makes me a good friend and conversationalist but I don’t trust myself and I don’t let down my guard very easily. I almost always feel like a burden to others.
I cannot wait to be a parent. But I have to wait. And that’s hard, too.
I want to be a tidy, organized person. But I am often messy and scattered.
Sometimes when I get Kyle’s voicemail, I sing songs that I made up on the spot. I think he likes it.
Your turn. I’d love to know more about you!