Tuesday, October 11, 2011


I have never tried a twinkie.  Deep fried or otherwise.

With the exception of walking to/in public places, I'm almost *always* barefoot.  I drive barefoot.  I use my sewing machine pedal barefoot.  When I was a kid, I could write with my foot. 

I'm obsessed with organizing.  The house I grew up in was messy (with three caaaa-razy kids my mom couldn't keep up!) so now my apartment is filled with organizational bins, baskets, and boxes.  And everything has its place -- even if I forget where that place might be.

The smell of bananas make me sick.  So does the smell of chocolate fudge.  And cherry/berry kool-aid.  When I was a kid if I was sneaking food stuff my mom would buy/make a bunch and let me gorg myself until I threw up.  I blame her.

I also used to be afraid I'd get hungry/thirsty in the middle of the night.  BUT, since I shared a room with my very light sleeper of a sister I couldn't get up to go to the kitchen.  My solution?  Hide food/drinks in/under my bed & sheets.  I still do this.  There are snacks in my nightstand and there is always a bottle of water on the floor next to my side of the bed.  (Side note- my dad caught me taking food to my room last time I was at th farm and said: guess things never changed.  Then laughed at me)

I was destined to work with money somehow.  The toys I always wanted as a kid was the fake money and Monopoly games.  Either that or I will hold out until I can marry rich. ;)

My dad is a veteran, ex-cop, ex-chief of police, and gunsmith....but I once wrote a three page essay on why all firearms should be taken from people in the world.  He didn't talk to me for days & still gets a twitch when I mention it. 

Also, my dad was the mayor of the town I grew up in.  I can remember playing in the court house that used to be an opera house -- so there were tons of nooks and crannys and old jail cells to play in the same place.

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