I have hands and feet and other parts too, but I prefer to keep some things private.
If it's helpful in imagining the rest of me, one time a guy I used to bone described me as "sort of like a hot Gumby."
I was offended by that description at the time but then a while back I had vagina surgery and I walked a lot like Gumby for a couple of weeks so maybe he was just seeing into the future? He was describing my body, though, not the way I walk, so I don't know. Possible I was wearing a lot of boot-cut jeans at the time.
For the record, the bottom part of my legs are shaped normally, regardless of the type of jeans I might be wearing. And I'm not green.
Not at all like Gumby, really, I don't know what that guy was talking about.
I'm sure you were hoping for more from this bio than how my body was once inaccurately described, but if I tell you everything in this one little box, I'm not sure why you'd read all the other great stuff on my blog.
Plus, there's a lot you can tell from this picture of my face.
I'm a white person, for one.
I'm also a female.
If you look closely, you can see some grey hair, which means I'm no spring chicken.
I'm smiling with my mouth closed - could be I have eff'd up teeth or possibly my neck muscles get all weird when the corners of my mouth go up too high. Maybe both.
I might live in a house with a blue door. (I don't.)
Finally, it appears that on the day this photo was taken, something interesting was happening to my right.
There. Now you know some stuff about me.
Bye.
Pity, please.
March 9, 2020
I’m in a terrible mood today. Just the worst.
I hate to complain (#lies) but if I’m going to move forward with my day, I have to get it all off my chest, so here’s a list of horrible things that have happened to me in the past two hours which you should all pity me for:
I had to get up early to take back the rental car to the place, which means I didn’t get to lay in bed for an hour reading about coronavirus.
My hair looked crazy so I had to wash it.
And then I had to fix it.
I still have that stupid haircut.
Low water pressure in the shower.
Freezing toilet seat.
Cold floor.
Couple days ago I broke my pinky nail way down in the nail bed and in order to not catch it on things, I have to wear a bandaid which is so gross and germy and feels weird like I cut my pinky off and now I have that “pinky that used to be there and still feels like it’s there sometimes” like how soldiers feel after they lose a leg in the war.
My jeans were all crunchy and still a little wet from doing laundry b/c we have no dryer.
I forgot to wash my scarf and it smelled like feet.
Had a rock in my shoe but didn’t realize it until after I’d tied it so I had to untie it and then retie it.
It’s cold outside.
We forgot to fill up the rental car last night so we had to find a gas station, which was in the opposite direction of the place where we had to drop it off.
Edinburgh traffic.
The Hot Canadian pointed to a hill we were driving by and he was all “That’s the hill I was talking about yesterday” and I was like “THAT’S THE HILL I WAS TALKING ABOUT YESTERDAY” and he was like “Oh I thought you were talking about that other hill over there with the statue on it” and I was like “I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW ABOUT THAT OTHER HILL UNTIL JUST NOW, I WAS OBVIOUSLY TALKING ABOUT THIS HILL GOD, I HATE YOU SO MUCH.”
I had forgotten to throw out a bunch of snotty tissues I’d stuffed in the pocket in the door of the car and the Hot Canadian didn’t anticipate I would have forgotten to do that so he didn’t bring a little bag from the house and then we had to find a trash can and I was so mad at him, even madder than I was about the thing about the hill.
He threw all the tissues away while I sat in the car brooding and one of them fell out of his hand but I just watched it blow down the street instead of chasing after it which I immediately felt guilty about (but not guilty enough to chase it).
We had to stand outside with the rental car guy while he checked the car and made small talk about our trip and my neck was so cold because no scarf.
It was a 10 block walk to the coffee shop.
Had another rock in my shoe.
The Hot Canadian crossed the street when the little man was red which he knows I hate, but I had to follow him because I didn’t want to walk alone even though I’m so mad at him for very good reasons.
As soon as we sat down with our coffees, he started working immediately instead of farting around and wasting time like me.
He was so nice to me the whole morning, even when I was mean to him.
