Thursday 13: Confessions, volume I

I keep trying to write substantive Thursday 13s. Really, I swear. For instance, I've drafted a post about "How to talk to your doctor" and one about good writing tips. Somehow they seem to get stuck in draft mode and I end up pumping out Shawna drivel in the interim. I'm blaming school, per usual, but I do intend to actually provide useful information one of these days! Until then... some "confessions."

1. I don't eat heels.
Exactly.
Of bread, that is. Or the ends of French bread, unless it is really, really soft.

2. I love corned beef hash. From the can. This is a byproduct of babysitters from long ago and I haven't partaken in the white trash delicacy in quite some time. But I do love it.

3. I may have an auditory disorder. People noises bother me. Like REALLY bother me to the point of distraction, frustration or sometimes, nausea. For instance, like many people, gum smacking/popping, celery/Cheeto crunching and soup slurping set me off. But so do subtleties like the annoying grate of a former co-worker's voice, the whiny jabbering of many undergrad females outside my office door, the shuffling of feet too lazy to ambulate like a proper human being. (Note: I am completely aware that I assign moral judgments to people who innocently (?) speak too loud on cell phones, shuffle feet in the hallway or God forbid, voraciously enjoy a meal. I'm working on it.) I did some google searching and there is no quick fix to my (apparently) exceedingly rare ridiculousness.

4. Left to my own devices, I choose the way of the sloth.
Photo credit
I can be highly productive when I want to, but the proportion of time I prefer to spend sleeping/watching re-runs/reading/eating/browsing the internet/blogging is much higher than the time I ever care to work. Oh, and I'd do all of those tasks in gigantic sweats, of course.

5. There's a special place in my heart for all things fried.
Mmmm, onion rings. Credit.
Although I frequent the gym and make a habit of eating decently, periodically I binge on fried delicacies. It's good for the soul, okay! Cheese sticks, zucchini slices, potato chips, calamari and when in "Rome," cheese curds. I love me some fried food! (Of course, as I can attest from our Hopscotch Honeymoon in the Midwest, I love me some fried food in moderation. Not EVERYTHING needs to be fried my friends!)

6. In my natural habitat, I am a slob. I've told you before that my nickname remains Slobanna. I'm just not a neatnik. I try, Lord knows I try. But I'm cluttery and I like to make piles. And as T has pointed out to me, I make trails... dropping keys, shoes, purses, coats along a path, which coincidentally may also be strewn with cups and uncapped pens that I leave about.

7. I fear failure.
Another confession: I miss Martin, my tortoise! Photo
Although I mention my personal foibles every so often a la baking fails, custard catastrophes and the blasted B+ in stats, my fear of failure runs deeper than the inconsequential. What if they find out that I'm not really that smart? What if I can't finish my dissertation? What if I am a terrible wife/mother/friend/sister, etc. Ahhhhhhh!

8. I hate being told what to do. Although this psychological reactance is not unique to me in the least, my distaste for directives has grown steadily over the years. Go to this meeting? I don't wanna... I'm going to have a sandwich. (Nathaniel, that's for you. xo!)

9. I love romance. All kinds. On TV, in books, in real life. Realistic, ridiculous, my only caveat is that it be authentic-ish e.g., the uber sappy Valentine's machine annoys me but the sentiment of sharing love true love still makes me grin. That I love Nora Roberts and other chicklit is not surprising.

10. I'm judgy. I had "I'm a mean person" listed first, but typically, I'm not outwardly mean. But that doesn't mean I'm not thinking mean things in my head. I truly struggle with my knee jerk reactions or condemnations about others. I get the "it's human" part, but I really try to keep a kind heart going. Some days, it's a losing battle but I try!

11. I'm a gossipy bitch.
Photo
Although sometimes I rationalize that it's just "information sharing" or that I was trained as a journalist to get the scoop, but really, I just like gossip. Not the hurtful kind (typically) or talking trash (usually), but I do enjoy being in the know. Of course I also know that sometimes being in the know is hurtful whether I intend it be or not. As a result, I've had "be a better person" on my goal list for the last five years running. Me thinks it will stay there until I die.

12. Sometimes, I swear like a sailor. See above, I'm telling you, sometimes it's a blue streak in this head of mine. Of course, like any good product of church schooling, I can turn it on and off at the drop of a hat. But, the errors--e.g. saying "SHIT!!" in the Quadrant of Silence--can be mortifying. Luckily, I haven't had too much trouble keeping my arse professional, but somedays it's tough, particularly in the classroom. I tend to use swearing for effect and to date, I have not dropped the F-bomb. Fingers crossed.

13. I really do want to be rich and famous.
Wouldn't T be spectacular being the stick of one of these babies?? (Photo by yours truly at the Chino Planes of Fame Air Show)
Well, rich anyway. Most of my big goals involve lots of cash. I want to make scholarships and fund educational programs and be a patron of the arts and own war birds so Mr. T can retire at 45 and preserve history in our flying museum. Oh and I really want a pool. ;)

Any confessions you care to share?

xoxo,
shawna

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