I wanna talk about ME
/
In six days, 158 hours, and approximately 9,439 minutes, I will be 27 er, uh 29 -- okay, 35 years old.
I know. I don't look a day over 23. I get that all the time.
So in honor of my fine self, and my upcoming 35th birthday, I thought I'd do a series of posts about myself for all of you.
I know, I'm like the gift that keeps on giving, aren't I?
Any relatives who have actually known me since birth can attest to one, indisputable truth: I was a dork, even as a kid.
Don't let this adorable picture fool you. There was a little devil hiding inside that navy blue jumper and multi-colored plaid blouse.
I was born on a cold day in November (really, are there any other days in November?). I was six pounds and 12 1/2 ounces of pure perfection. The doctor even told my mother to take off all my clothes and study every inch of my perfect, lovely self.
Yes, I was that beautiful.
And no, she doesn't do to me that anymore. That'd be, like, really weird.
Immediately upon my birth, my older brother, Craig, wanted to give me away. Overnight, I had joined his peaceful kingdom, stolen his crown, and turned his legions of adoring fans my way. Sadly, he's never had attention like that since.
Sadly, neither have I, come to think of it.
As a little girl, I was always fascinated by things I was not allowed to do. One particular time, my mom, grandmother, aunt, and I were all shopping together at a downtown mall. I have no doubt that it was the longest shopping trip in my four-year-old history, and my patience was wearing thin. I spied a bubble gum machine and proceeded to beg my mother for a penny.
Yes, you could buy gum for a penny back in the dark ages. As long as you got out of your covered wagon without a dinosaur killing you, you were all right.
What? Shut up. Okay, back to the story.
For reasons beyond my comprehension, that penny was denied me. Frustrated, I sat down near a fountain at the center of the mall, most likely to sulk. I was a good sulker (still am). Much to my excitement, I saw a whole bunch of pennies just sitting on the bottom of the fountain - waiting to be taken. Nay, begging to be taken. As carefully as I could, I reached down to grab one.
Yeah. You know what happens here.
I went tumbling head-first into the ice-cold water. I remember actually coming up out of the water and wondering if I could shake enough water off that my mom wouldn't notice. Unfortunately for me, someone shouted, "A little girl just fell in the fountain!"
Stupid tattle-tale.
An army of women immediately came rushing over, helping me out of the fountain, all while stifling their laughs. As a mother now, I can just imagine my own mother's embarrassment. I mean, who wants to step up and claim the dumb kid that fell into the fountain? Oh, the horrors. No wonder this unfortunate incident happened to me. Stupid karma.
Still, I never did get that bubble gum. But I did get an entire new outfit to wear, and a coloring book from the store. Which is not too shabby, considering all I wanted was a little, itty, bitty gumball.
I would say that I learned a valuable lesson that day- when you don't get what you want, go shopping for a new outfit instead.
It's a lesson that has served me well for many, many years.
Stay tuned for upcoming tales of woe: surgery, bad dates, and surprise happy endings.
I know. I don't look a day over 23. I get that all the time.
So in honor of my fine self, and my upcoming 35th birthday, I thought I'd do a series of posts about myself for all of you.
I know, I'm like the gift that keeps on giving, aren't I?
Any relatives who have actually known me since birth can attest to one, indisputable truth: I was a dork, even as a kid.
Don't let this adorable picture fool you. There was a little devil hiding inside that navy blue jumper and multi-colored plaid blouse.
I was born on a cold day in November (really, are there any other days in November?). I was six pounds and 12 1/2 ounces of pure perfection. The doctor even told my mother to take off all my clothes and study every inch of my perfect, lovely self.
Yes, I was that beautiful.
And no, she doesn't do to me that anymore. That'd be, like, really weird.
Immediately upon my birth, my older brother, Craig, wanted to give me away. Overnight, I had joined his peaceful kingdom, stolen his crown, and turned his legions of adoring fans my way. Sadly, he's never had attention like that since.
Sadly, neither have I, come to think of it.
As a little girl, I was always fascinated by things I was not allowed to do. One particular time, my mom, grandmother, aunt, and I were all shopping together at a downtown mall. I have no doubt that it was the longest shopping trip in my four-year-old history, and my patience was wearing thin. I spied a bubble gum machine and proceeded to beg my mother for a penny.
Yes, you could buy gum for a penny back in the dark ages. As long as you got out of your covered wagon without a dinosaur killing you, you were all right.
What? Shut up. Okay, back to the story.
For reasons beyond my comprehension, that penny was denied me. Frustrated, I sat down near a fountain at the center of the mall, most likely to sulk. I was a good sulker (still am). Much to my excitement, I saw a whole bunch of pennies just sitting on the bottom of the fountain - waiting to be taken. Nay, begging to be taken. As carefully as I could, I reached down to grab one.
Yeah. You know what happens here.
I went tumbling head-first into the ice-cold water. I remember actually coming up out of the water and wondering if I could shake enough water off that my mom wouldn't notice. Unfortunately for me, someone shouted, "A little girl just fell in the fountain!"
Stupid tattle-tale.
An army of women immediately came rushing over, helping me out of the fountain, all while stifling their laughs. As a mother now, I can just imagine my own mother's embarrassment. I mean, who wants to step up and claim the dumb kid that fell into the fountain? Oh, the horrors. No wonder this unfortunate incident happened to me. Stupid karma.
Still, I never did get that bubble gum. But I did get an entire new outfit to wear, and a coloring book from the store. Which is not too shabby, considering all I wanted was a little, itty, bitty gumball.
I would say that I learned a valuable lesson that day- when you don't get what you want, go shopping for a new outfit instead.
It's a lesson that has served me well for many, many years.
Stay tuned for upcoming tales of woe: surgery, bad dates, and surprise happy endings.