quirky two shoes

The sweet thing about the internet is that there are plenty of people on it who are weirder than me.
People are always telling me I'm weird. Or quirky. Quirky's nicer than weird.

Here's how I stack up:
Sometimes I find it most comfortable to sleep mummy style. I lay super straight and cross my hands over my chest. I tuck pillows around my neck and bring the edges of the blanket up to my ears. Sofa King (Tut) comfortable!

My fave go-to dinner when I'm too hungrumpy to make anything proper is lettuce, carrots and tomato with a blob of cottage cheese on top, with some thai chili flavored tuna on top of that and then some brown rice on top of that. Sounds like disgusting diet food, but I think it's delish!

Loud music playing while people are talking makes me anxious. Music that I find unappealing does the same thing. I'm shite at tolerating music I don't enjoy. I'd equate listening to Muse with someone kicking me in the shin. I keep trying to branch out, but it's just not something I can fake. This reduces my music pool to mainly lyric-less electronica. At the gym, I'll usually get a little crazy and bust out some not too trancey trance. Oooooooo.

See. I'm weird, but it's not like I'm sitting on stranger's laps on the subway or anything.

At approximately this time last year I was in Vegas. I went with my friend Iris. She's got great taste and has been to Vegas about a billion times and loves it. If she suggests something, it's usually a good idea to do it because it's going to be fun. Before our trip, I was quite sure I was much too unique and original to enjoy a vacay so common as 4 days and 3 nights in Sin City. Wrong. It was awesome. Top 3 memories of my life.

For whatever stupid reason, it's 7am on a Sunday morning and I've been awake for two hours. 

I'm stuck awake thinking about school. Stupid school. No, scratch that, I love school, it's chemistry that I hate. After graduating from high school 8 years ago, I'm finally now going to university to complete prerequisite courses for dental hygiene. I hated chemistry in high school and I hate it just as much now. I don’t remember the basics from chem. 30, and I’m already embarrassingly behind now that I'm attempting chem at a higher level. I’m meeting tutors this week, but the light at the end of Heisenberg and Schroedinger’s tunnel is getting really dim. If I don't pass chem 101 this semester, I don't get into hygiene. Period. I don't even have a chance at applying for hygiene.

At this time last year, while looking out  floor to ceiling Wynndows I wanted to start writing and was strongly considering taking a PR course. Then I was going to move to Vancouver and walk by the ocean and hike on the weekends.

Then I met a boy. He's the funnest person I know. He's also 6'4" and has really amazing biceps. He thinks I'm pretty and funny. He insists on carrying the grocery basket, but not until it gets heavy because he knows I like feeling independent. He's a fucking catch and a half. He makes me want to do important things with my life. 

I keep thinking about my trip Vegas because I worry I’ll never have that feeling again now that I’m in love- that feeling of freedom and excitement of unknown adventures and the newness and contentment of finally, after 25 years, feeling confident and comfortable in my own skin. I didn't feel like a kid anymore. I felt like an adult.

When you’re in love you have to do things like miss people and become a dental hygienist. When you’re in love you don’t write blogs about getting the clap from boys who’ve been to prison or finally humping a boy who speaks Russian, only to have him cry in your bed afterwards. You don’t write blogs about going on a date with a cross dresser, or about the Kiwi tattooist who performed cunninglus on the mussels he had for dinner while you made help-me eyes at the waiter until he wordlessly brought the check.

Dental hygiene would be a solid choice. An enjoyable choice, for the most part. Definitely a profitable one. But a stimulating one? A fulfilling one? Meh.

I was going to start a blog last year in an attempt to improve my writing. Then I put it off because I was scared of sucking at something. But since I think I crave something more creative than scraping plaque off teeth, I’m finally going to start this fucking blog. 

Uuuuuuhhhhhh. That felt amazing.