What You Don’t Know About Me… (It’s supposed to sound like ‘What I Like About You’…)

I don’t know why, but learning random facts about people is actually my favorite activity… Why do people do the strange things they do? Seriously, my friendships are truly rooted in my heart when I find out that people, like me, do strange things… for basically no reason.

All of that being said, here are just a few (the only ones I can think of) strange habits I am proud to call my own:

– I have a loft in my dorm room… I fall asleep with my feet on the ceiling a good 4 out 7 days a week.

– I eat at least 2 oranges a day.

– I hate being warm… my window is open in my room as we speak.

– My hate for animals spurred from watching movies in which the animals speak… starting with ‘Home Ward Bound’ and ending with ‘Doctor Doo Little’, every single one.

– I own 94 pairs of shoes.

– I paint my nails 3 times a week.

– The greatest accomplishment in life, so far, was dying my own hair… and not missing the entire back of my head.

– I put hot mustard in my Ramen… or lemon juice.

– I’m addicted to all things Twitter…and ‘Ghost Whisperer.’

– Every I.D. picture taken of me, ever, looks like someone is holding a gun to my head.

– I hate the color red.

– I spent 2 years of my life harboring a false love for Robert Pattinson.

– I hate being called cute. Above all else. I believe that when one reaches the age of 13, they should no longer be called cute.

The End.

 

If I Married Me

I have to say, it is a really good thing there does not exist another one of me. Seriously, I don’t think the world… or my parents could handle it.

While I definitely do not have a type A personality, I do like things to happen in a certain way. I go to bed at 10:30, I wake up at 6:30, I shower, I get dressed, I change my outfit… I change it again… I change it again, I put on my makeup, I write down the homework I need to accomplish in my day, I go to breakfast, I read my Bible, I go back to my room and brush my teeth, I get my water bottle, I go to class, I do homework, I go to work, I do homework, I go to bed… and then I start over again!

Needless to say, my day has a routine. Here’s my issue with this- I’m also the biggest dork EVER. I have a pillow pet, he’s a giraffe. The best part is, when you open his zipper, his guts come out… His guts are a blanket! Is a zoobie, and I love him. I have a whale hanging on my wall. His name is Nar (get it… Nar cause he hangs on the wall? As in Nar Wall Whale! I know, good one!)

If I married a boy like me, he would be in bed by 8. He would color pictures and put them on the fridge. He would hot glue things to ever single item we own. Oh- and he would probably go through strange phases… for example:

1) Trying his absolute hardest to be a hipster

2) Melting crayons on canvases

3) Cardigans all day everyday

4) Owning 94 plus pairs of shoes

5) AND blogging about every senseless idea that pops into his brain.

So there you have it. There cannot and should not be a male counterpart to myself.

56 Days of Bethany

In 56 short days I will officially have left my days of being 18. I have to say, of all of the ages I have been, 18 has not been my favorite. If I had to pick my favorite, I would say… 8. It was acceptable to color then, when you’re 18, people tend to judge you. I can’t help that I have artistic talent!

All of this to say- it has been a year of growing and changing. I owe a lot of thanks to a lot of people. Growing up is hard. Making decisions is hard… especially when I’m me!

In Marriage and Family Life, a course at school, I learned an interesting little bit of knowledge today. God created us in His image. We love, we care for things, we help one another, we learn… there are obviously many more, however my brain has decided to stop working… so can’t really remember the rest. BUT! The exciting part is- we have a creative God… and we are made in His image… I was created to BE creative! This is fantastic news! I can color, I can draw, I can glue things onto bobby pins, and that’s okay. I don’t just glue things and color things, I also like to be creative with clothing… actually that’s my favorite kind of creativity.

Praise the Lord for giving us the freedom to create… praise Him for creating us!

What a beautiful revelation this is.

 

Pretty Little… Wimp…

…”See you”…

Two words have never stricken me with such fear. I don’t really love when people text me things like that, I’m just a little to paranoid for such things. If I sit with my back to a door or a window I turn every thirty five seconds, like clock work, to see what is happening behind me. I don’t hear voices in my head, don’t worry. What is it that makes me so fidgety? That I will never know, but I can tell you, I get scared easily… and often.

I’m not guilty of the creeper text… or so I thought. While enjoying some relaxing poem annotating in the Coffee Bean (school coffee shop) with a friend, I received a text message. I don’t get a lot of texts, so this situation is already perplexing. Who could possibly be texting me? All of my friends were in class. Not that it stops us, but… you know. I open my inbox to find a nameless text. Now, I go to Emmaus and we all pretty much have each other’s phone numbers. So, I text back… and then my phone alerts me to tell me that I have another text. All I thought was, “Wow, that was so fast?” I open my message once again to find that I had received the back the same message that I had sent… I took a closer look at the number. It was my number…. My phone texted me? I texted my phone? someone else has my number? WHAT?!?

I’m a pretty big fan of Pretty Little Liars, so in my mind, A is after me. I’m ridiculous. In what universe would there be a mystery stalker following me and sending me texts from my own phone?

But how do I explain the text….?

Am I A… or B?

The Love Glove (Courtesy of the Grandparents)

Love: a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person (as defined on Dictionary.com… the ultimate authority). Correct me if I’m wrong, but no where in that sentence do I see “and must hold hands in public.” Sunday night is dinner with friends and family at my parent’s house. I LOVE IT! Seriously. Tonight the topic was relationships… and my utter distaste for them at this point in my life. Of course, mocking comes. No one will forget this when I fall (if I fall) madly in love with someone. I imagine the conversation going something like this:

Me: “Mom I have a boyfriend.”

Mom: “I TOLD YOU!”

What a glorious that day will be. Luckily, I know what I’m setting myself up for. I guess…

Suddenly the conversation took a turn for the worse and the love glove was mentioned. What is a love glove, you ask? Well I, for one, do not endorse, nor do I ever plan to endorse this product. A single set of mittens is sewn together to for a mutant mitten, perfect for hand holding (so they say). Also- it serves as a great tool to disgust and disturb all of those observing. Who would own such a thing? I’m glad you asked. My  grandparents. What? There was a good sale on! As if that’s any excuse. But wait! This gets better, my grandmother is saving it for me! What if it’s cold and my significant other and I want to take a walk? Apparently our hands won’t function separately.

So, future boyfriend (if you exist) don’t worry. We have a love glove… Yay!

What we can learn from this lesson: Keep all and any mittens separate. It will pay off in the end.

The most sickening thing since personalized license plates.