Silly Secrets

Now that I've shared one of my biggest most personal secrets, I can't help wanting to unleash all of them out into the universe.

This is dumb.

But these are silly things about me that are okay to share. I think.

Whether I like reading a book without pictures or not, I will inevitably check to see how many pages it is and groan. Page count doesn't matter.

I change into lounging wear the minute I get home. Previously worn clothes are taken off and thrown on the floor right where I'm standing and stay there until I either have a visitor or move to a chair until I have to do laundry.

When someone visits I am highly motivated to clean the bathroom, take out the garbage, and wash the dishes. Until then, not so much.

I love band-aids. I don't need them as much now that I've finally stopped chewing my fingers. I sort of miss them.

Speaking of my fingers, I stare at my nails a lot now that they are pretty.

I've taken about 65 pictures of myself in the past month with either my camera or iPhoto so that I can finally change my damn online profile pictures. I looked horrible in all of them. If someone has a good picture of me with short hair, please send!

I miss Mondello's pizza near Company. That shit be good.

Most of my passwords have superhero names in them.

I can tell when someone on the train is reading my thoughts. I usually let them unless they give me the creeps.

I don't know the last time I changed my sheets.

My alarm goes off at 7:30am blaring a Spanish radio station. I snooze until 8am. My neighbors probably hate me. Sacapunta!

If I could make out with anyone famous, I have a hard time picking a guy. Christina Hendricks, Bettie Page, Scarlet Johansson (although she seems bitchy) - girls are no problem. Gosh, I'm even indecisive about guys in my fantasies.

I'm forgoing Dunkin Donuts iced coffee because the iced coffee at the local diner is $0.30 cheaper. It's not as good.

I cannot account for the missing $2 in my spending tracker and it's annoying the shit out of me.

I haven't bought new work clothes in almost two years. My professional wardrobe is the rattiest it's ever been. I'm too cheap to buy new outfits and I really just don't care at Minnow. Unfortunately, it shows.

Not only do I have zero recollection of conversations and events that occur when I'm drunk, I also have zero short-term sober memory. I guess this isn't really a secret, but I forgot that was the point of this post.

Mick is the only person I slept with this year. Again, not really a secret but worth mentioning as I can't remember (see above) the last time I had only one sexy partner in eight months. It was probably college with PJ. I like it.

I started writing Thighs as a teenager, thinking it would be a book about my life one day. It's funny to think the internet barely existed then, let alone blogs.

Right now I look how I always look when a'blogging - sweaty and pantsless with a big cheesy smile on my face. If it's a sad post I don't have a smile, but I still have a positive glow. I like this, too.