It’s that day again… Crappy ol’ Tuesday. I’m here, once again, to try to make it better for you (and for me because I am sick).
Today is TRUE STORY TUESDAY!!!
True Story Tuesdays are all about you getting to know me better. I’ll offer up a few “stories” about myself; they may be juicy, they may be funny, they may be dumb. Hopefully you will enjoy my true stories as the Tuesdays continue 🙂
1. I sweat. A lot. I used to dance (from ages 4-18) and as soon as we busted out the moves, I busted out in sweat. I doubt that I was working harder than the rest of the dancers but I was always the sweatiest. I don’t think I was the smelliest though (and I’m sorry to all my fellow dancers if I was). But now, even walking 5 minutes to the train, I get sweaty. On a cold freaking day! I don’t know if I’m the only one like this. I like to think I’m not. Please let me know if you are sweaty too. I know that’s gross to admit but it would make me feel so much better. I also tend to sweat more from my right arm pit than my left… You know what? That’s too much information. Forget I ever told you that. #Iamanawkwardmonkey
2. I swear. A lot. Yeah… you might have noticed. I guess I have acquired my colourful language from my family? From my hometown? From my previous jobs? From EVERYWHERE?! I don’t know. But I fucking love profanity. That is one, essentially, uncompromising thing about me. I’m not sure whether it’s accepted in the blogosphere but it’s a part of me that cannot be rewired. No, that doesn’t mean I swear when my grandma is around or when I’m trying to be professional but I do like to set my vocabulary free outside of those select situations. For those of you who considered my blog to be professional, seriously read again and then decide. You’re probably going to see me try to revolutionise Saturday into Caturday. THAT is where I’m going with all of this.
3. I am a picky eater. When I was younger I loved chicken fingers. I still do. I fucking love em. But that was ALL I ate. I had the most basic taste in food. I definitely got away with it because my mom would cater to me. I’d say, “I don’t like that.” She’d say, “Okay, what do you want me to make?” And she’d make it. Or order it. Then one day, I was all, “I’mma try some lettuce.” Yes, I didn’t eat lettuce. Something that basically tastes like a garden. I wouldn’t eat it. Why? Because no one made me. At first I didn’t like it. It was crunchy and I didn’t want it to be. I was weird. Now I love it. Well… as much as you can love lettuce. It’s good mixed up with some veggies in a salad or with chicken in a burger. Which brings me to ground beef. One thing I do not/will not eat (yes, that means I don’t eat hamburgers or tacos). I had it once and will never go back. I don’t like the smell. I don’t like how it looks. I don’t like cooking it. I don’t like the texture. I don’t like it at all. Ground anything kind of weirds me out. When I went to Europe with my high school Travel Club, I knew I was going to have to step out of my shell because I couldn’t eat chicken fingers everyday. And I love food too much to starve. So I ate the green beans on my plate and tried Italian and Greek dishes I would normally be scared to try. And I lived. Maybe I don’t eat green beans anymore but since that trip I’ve been down to try most foods. That way I actually KNOW I don’t like it rather than just assuming I don’t like it. Some foods that I am impartial to are tomatoes, mushrooms, and olives. Some foods that I still don’t like are ground beef, coffee, and tuna.
Tuesdays suck… until now!
Except mine still sucks because I’m sick.