I don't know why I did this, but it felt good...

I enjoy burping.

But I'm considerate enough to try and keep it to a minimum when I'm around people I don't know (and thus am not aware of their expected level of etiquette) and people I do know that don't appreciate it.

So basically, just tell me, "ew, that grosses me out. Stahp."

And I will.

I like big trucks that are dirty and look at home in the backwoods.

But if I ever wanted a "nice" truck I like the Nissan Titan.

I like listening to the Bluegrass Banjo station on pandora because it makes me feel like I'm in Critter Country (Disneyland).

I also really like sneezing.

I already play piano and harp pretty well but I'd love to be proficient at acoustic guitar, drum kit and steel drums, bagpipes, french horn, cello, and maybe even be able to sing out loud in front of people without freezing up and becoming instantly tone deaf. 

I love food.

Hot dogs, cheeseburgers, turkey legs, french fries, potatoes in any form really, except sweet potatoes, steak, mac and cheese, spaghetti, pasta basically, shrimp, and obviously bacon but most especially spiral cut ham at Christmas. 

I also thoroughly enjoy broccoli of the steamed variety.

Baked goods are my literal soulmate. Because I'm 90% positive my soul is located in my stomach. It might be my stomach. I'm not too sure, I can't really get a good look at it.

I am a big fan of beverages, but I somehow manage to maintain a constant state of dehydration.

It may be because I don't like peeing.

Or going to the bathroom at all really.

I have confused views on my own opinions so I don't talk about them much.

I will do most anything to avoid confrontation.

And debating.

Nope.

Nope, nope, nope.

I loathe being tickled. Even though it makes me laugh. It only takes a straight minute of tickling for me to start feeling like I can't breathe and then there are usually tears and the possibility of farting.

I don't trust farts.

Mine or otherwise.

I am irrationally afraid of things falling in the toilet.

I cannot come up with an adequate explanation of why that is.

I love a butt-ton of animals. My favorites though are Moose and Otters and Hedgehogs. 

I would like to make it clear however that the latter two have long been my favorites, even since before all this OtterLock business.

(Which I highly enjoy.)

Zoos are my sanctuary.

It's probably why I'm so much more entertained by Jungle Cruise than seemingly most people. I find it highly disappointing when I visit Disneyland and don't get to ride.

Speaking of which; DISNEYLAND IS EVERYTHING.

Disney. Pretty much. All the time.

I won't say I regret leaving the college program early, but I sincerely wish I could go back to working for them. I need more Carsland in my life. Pronto!

I am currently dying to go to the lake and just chill for the weekend.

Camping completes my soul.

My whole outlook on life can be brightened by simply tossing some essentials in the back of the truck and driving out into the wilderness to hang out in the good ole outdoors for a couple days. 

I am completely content to ignore all current obligations and just read a book.

Or laze on the couch outside and listen to the birds.

I sincerely miss rain. Monsoon season isn't enough for me.

Gray is my absolute, unequivocal favorite color.

I don't care that it's technically a "shade".

Shaddup.

Gray, cloudy days are my bread and butter.

But the sun is my secret lover.

I love my freckles.

I am regularly depressed that they have faded from my face. I wish to get them back.

Hello, cancer.

Sometimes I get worried that I have no idea what my family medical history is (because adoption, whattup) because maybe I might die.

I mean, I'll die anyway. 

Moving on.

If I get to be 80 and the thing I've spent the most money on is traveling and books, then I'll have spent my life wisely. IMHO

I'd rather spend my money on adventure and learning, and spend my time with my children adventuring and learning.

My kids won't be [terribly] spoiled. I hope.

Time trumps things.

I miss my bicycle.

Reading a book in a tree is an activity I sorely miss as well.

Somehow I grew up and got fat. How messed up is that?

[Insert Dr. Seuss joke]

I consider it a massive let down that I'm not a mermaid.

I desperately love the idea of riding horses but it seems that every time I get on one I can't contain the fear and panic and the horse, obvsly, sets off running. It's a complicated relationship.

I have the dire wish to be good at "art" but I can't find my own style.

It's frustrating.

I love, love, love getting to know people and "reading" their stories but I hate being recognized myself.

"So why do you blog??"

I got better.

And I also got sick of hand cramps and ink stains.

But seriously if I could be that proverbial "fly on the wall" it would be a dream come true.

Not cuz I wanna spy on people, I just....I like stories.

People are stories.

And each one is different.

And I wanna "read" them all.

My birth-father was ambidextrous.

I am barely monodextrous.

When I was in like, fifth grade (?) I sat behind a girl who had beautiful, clear handwriting and I looked at my sloppy mess and decided I wanted to have nice handwriting.

So I did! I wrote pretty and it was fab.

But then I hit high school and taking time to write things became superfluous and it slowly degraded into a weird morphing of print and cursive that has stuck with me.

I was into calligraphy for like, a month.

I'm trying to convince myself this post is simply a ploy to "find myself" and further solidify who I want to be rather than a disgustingly vain practice.

I haven't yet decided either way.

So my solution is to just avoid decisions and stop.

This is good plan.