HI.
Being that it’s nearly 4 a.m. and I am still awake (this time, against my will), I thought I’d take this opportunity to let the people of the blog (that’s you, trusty reader — if, in fact, you are not a myth!) in on several things about myself that are crucial to my understanding:
A. I hate bananas. I will not touch one, eat one, smell, mash, or even look at one. (All of these rules are waived for banana bread and cake, which I wholeheartedly enjoy. I don’t get it, either.)
2. I cannot stand listening to the sounds made by others during the consumption of a bowl of cereal.
III. I am borderline OCD, if not mildly OCD, if not actually OCD. It’s not diagnosed, however, I’m fairly certain that putting the dishes away 12 times a day, turning lights on, and off, and on, arranging the couch pillows just so to my satisfaction, cleaning my room before I go to sleep (if I sleep), getting an unnatural high off of seeing things in neat rows, columns, etc., and organizing everything I can get my hands on is pretty good indication. I like neat, and neat likes to drive me crazy.
4) Going back to what I said about bananas. If there is something that I dislike more than bananas, it’s seafood. WHAT THE HECK! Who on earth got the bright idea to eat a fish one day, or a crustacean of any kind for that matter?! Were they really that bored and/or hungry?! I’ve had this argument numerous times, and I stand firm on my reasoning. What comes from the water should stay in the water, period. I’m not certain where this logic emerged from, but I’m fairly certain it was from watching my brother chop fish heads off at a young age. Sea creatures look so much better swimming than on a plate, or in a casserole, or a sandwich at McDonald’s. (Wait, that’s not fish! Fish don’t have sandwiches!) Not to mention they’re scaly and slimy and smelly…three things I do NOT look for in my food. Exclamation point. Period.
V. While we’re on the topic of aquatic animals, I made an erratic decision the other week that if I could be an animal, I’d be a killer whale. I’m not 100 percent sure where this came from, maybe I was listening to Michael Jackson. My aspirations were all but crushed as my best friend justified my decision with, “Oh, a killer whale? So you could be hunted for your blubber?” I’d always pictured them in a Free Willy sort of way, all graceful and beautiful and such, but apparently whales are ugly and the main ingredient in marshmallows. Hmm. Change of plans.
f. When I was much younger, I liked to ride my bike down the street behind our house. One day I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going and ran square into a parked car, HARD mind you. As I picked myself up from the ground, I noticed that the owner was standing outside watering his lawn. I said ‘sorry’ and sped away. The best part of the story (as if me falling off my bike isn’t great enough) comes a couple of years down the road when the same man was a sub for my P.E. class. Please enjoy a laugh at my expense, and understand that running into things is a part of life, parked cars are easily overlooked, and if this happens to you, you’re better off changing your gender and moving to Djibouti.
7. I am not going to remember any of this in the morning.
h) When I was growing up, my dad used to call me Cruella de Ville. Not because I was evil, but because I actually looked like her. I can confirm this.
IX. There is an extensive list of things I would rather slam my hand in a car door than endure, including (but not limited to):
1. Watch football.
2. Sleep in the same room as a snorer (or ATTEMPT to sleep). Say your prayers, I will make your life unbearable in the morning.
3. Witness people lick food off their fingers. CRINGE. If I could only show you the microorganisms under your nails that are cringing, too…
4. Eat seafood or bananas (refer to A and 4).
5. Attend any sort of gathering involving country music, drunken stupor, masses of people, or all of the above (my personal fav). Even better if it’s hot and people are sticking to me.
6. Being referred to as a “little girl,” or “cutie” by drunk, old men in the WalMart express checkout lane (don’t ask).
7. The wrath of my parents after telling them I’m dropping out of school to pursue such careers as “Sandwich Artist,” “Freeloader,” “Carnival Specialist,” or “Baby Maker.”
10. There are just two things that I want to do during my lifetime: Cruise in a submarine, and ride in a sidecar. I recently decided that since I am borderline, if not mildly, if not actually claustrophobic (my immunity built up from days of being squeezed into high school lockers is in remission) the submarine dream can be permanently postponed. The sidecar, on the other hand — that I am completely serious about. If you know an Uncle Buck or great second Cousin Sue that has one, let. Me. Know.
k) For my 10th birthday party, I had a photograph of the Hanson brothers printed onto my cake. I also wore my Hanson Middle of Nowhere t-shirt, and cried when it was not I, THE BIRTHDAY GIRL, who got to consume the piece of cake containing the imagery of Zac Hanson’s head. I was pretty hardcore.
It’s five o’clock and I have sufficiently annihilated an hour with my nonsensical brouhaha. No worries, there’s plenty more where this came from. To bed once more, this time to prevail!
muchlove,
jc
PS. I really won’t remember this in the morning. Forgive me.
approximatelyes.com 
seafood SUCKS. all of it.bananas though? love bananas.