April 15, 2010 by Marj Hatzell
It took me four months but I finally figured out Incognito Mom tagged me like a bazillion years ago and I’m just now getting back to her. ‘Cause I actually looked at my blog stats today and was all, “ZOMG. People linked here? YOU DON’T SAY.” I should look at my blog stats more often so I can see the spam comments from c1al1s sales people in Russia and google searches like, “BIG, HAIRY FEET” to which I reply, “HEY. I SHAVED THEM YESTERDAY.”
So. I’m supposed to do this meme-thingy (despite my complete refusal to do so because I’m awesome like that). About me. Like, say things about me that people don’t actually know yet. It’s hard to talk about me, believe it or not. Like, really hard. I don’t like to toot my own horn or anything. I like to toot other horns (BE QUIET, DIRTY PEOPLE).
Okey Dokey, so here it goes:
- Sometimes my kids get on my nerves. NO, REALLY! It’s true. I pretend that I’m this awesome Super-Mom-Type but in real life I’m just like you. Except with less sleep. And when I’m tired, the sound of them breathing is enough to send me over the edge. So I do what any responsible parent would do: I ignore them. Like, “Hey guys! Wanna watch a movie?” or “Sure, Bugaboo! Go in the basement playroom BY YOURSELF!” or, “Wanna take a(n hour long) bath?” Mommy feels much better when the idiot box gives her a break. Just sayin’.
- I used to go braless all the time. Like, all the time. I hated bras. Never wore under wire. NEVER HAD TO. Before kids I was a 32A. They were cute and little and perky, just like me. Then I had kids. Did you ever blow up a balloon until it was completely stretched out to oblivion? And then eventually the air leaked out and you found it shriveled up in the corner like a month later? The same thing happens with bewbs, it turns out. They are still cute, not quite perky, but thankfully didn’t return to their previously microscopic state. And now I have to wear bras. I even wear a special sleep bra so I don’t wake up with my girls stuck in my armpit. Let’s just say I don’t pass the pencil test. No more than a handful, right? OK, FINE! 34 D.
- I’m so obsessed with Regency England I write stories in my head about it. Like, I’m the heroine, there’s some unrequited love, I picture me in pretty costumes, I rewrite scenes when I’m falling asleep, etc. Except I never actually write these stories down. I probably never will. But damn, THEY ARE GOOD.
- I don’t really like to eat sandwiches much. Once in a while I’ll eat a grilled cheese or something (or a cheese steak, because, HELLO! Philly!). Once in a great, great while I’ll make what we affectionately call HOAGIES here in Philly. Please don’t insult us with that sub or hero crap. WHATEVS. Anyways, I make a turkey and cheese one. Then I take some Herr’s Barbecue flavored chips and put them on top. Then I squish it closed and eat the sandwich, chips and all. It’s so freaking awesome.
- I drink tons and tons and tons all day. In fact, I drink probably half of my calories. And I eat the other half. I’m thinking I eat more than women my age probably should eat. And then I drink 50% more. And yes, I’m aware I shouldn’t. But TEA! I love TEA! Almost as much as TATERS! But tea is so yummy! And I tried, Lordy, how I tried, to cut it out. But then I realized, I don’t want to. So I cut BACK. And I allow myself hot tea in the morning and then a glass of tea at lunch and dinner. Sometimes I cheat and buy a snapple while I’m out (the new cranberry tea is FRAKKING SAWEET). BUt mostly I carry around my stainless steel water bottle and guzzle water. And you where this is leading, right? Yep. Elimination. It must be done. So therefore, the point I’m trying to make is I spend TONS of time in the bathroom. You know, eliminating?
- I like dogs more than people. No offense, y’all are really nice. I’m just a TEENSY bit obsessed with dogs. Just a little. Just like babies, I talk to them at their level and I get right down and play with ’em and cuddle with ’em and…and…I’m well on my way to being a crazy dog lady. I’m just a dog person. You know how there are cat people and dog people? ME? DOG. Now, you might be saying, “Um. Hello? DEEJ? Total rip-off. We knew that.” To which I’m gonna say, “Um, hello? I talk to my dogs in cute-puppy-voice, which is kinda like cute-baby-talk-mommy-voice except it sounds ten times more ridiculous. Oh, and I kiss my dogs. So there.
- As talkative and cheerful and friendly and outgoing I seem in real life I’m actually quite socially anxious and panic stricken. I find it difficult to talk on the phone. I have to psych myself up and rehearse phone calls (like ordering a pizza or making an appointment). That’s why I prefer e-mail. When I run into people I never know what to do or say. It’s unrehearsed! I can’t think of ANYTHING to say and just blurt something out. And then when I find myself, say, out for drinks? With women that I like but don’t know well and I want them to like me? Because I’ve just been elected president of home and school? Yeah, I do stoopid stuff like gesture wildly and knock over PRECIOUS, PRECIOUS sangria on my favorite jeans. And make myself look like an ass. Because basically I don’t know how to calm myself down. Sheesh. Which is why I practice social situations. Trust me, if you know me? You’ll thank me someday for this, when you get to experience IMPROV DG.
There. How’s that? Did I done good?
And for your viewing pleasure, here’s a picture of the recent Philly BlogGRRLZ Bossy-no-book-tour send-off. Guess which one is me? If you said THE ONE WITH THE ENORMOUS MOUTH, you win the prize.