“Hi, my name is…”
This evening I am armed with a glass of red wine (opened bottle awaiting my refill is standing attention in the kitchen), a view of my unkempt yet “homey” neighborhood and a completely silent home with just me and my two absolutely wonderful cats and I thought that it was about time to introduce myself.
I am a 26 year old married woman living abroad in the beautiful country of Italy, and the not so beautiful area of Naples (people come here for the food, not the sights. Trust me). I married my first boyfriend and love (which sounds a little deceiving since I didn’t have said first boyfriend until I was, oh, 24) and we spend a lot of our time laughing, talking and just being weird. We have two little chittens (that’s “children” and “kittens” combined, bytheway) named Maude and Chooch; Maude-atron and Choochimus Prime for short. I’m a relatively unadventurous person, but with the right mood and the right amount of pressuring peers, even I can be adventurous from time to time. I’m inconveniently not very lady like, and while it is a great source of awkwardness and humor I get along just fine…most of the time. I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but that’s okay because I’m not entirely sure I really want to grow up.
I am a list-maker, neurotically so. One of my most favorite lists to make is my grocery shopping list. I like to write down what I plan to purchase in the order of their location in the grocery store (I would just like to acknowledge that yes, I do realize I have some OCD tendencies, thanks for noticing) because there are few things finer than the feeling I get when I walk from one end of the store to the other and have everything I need and want and have no need to back track. It is a very sweet success.
I am never without pen and paper. Never. I love writing things down; notes, quotes, movie titles, magazine articles, dialogue from a conversation I’ve over-heard, anything. And while some of the things I write down may seem completely useless to the untrained brain, I still write it down. With great satisfaction even. I mean, you just never know when you’re going to need to reference the quote, “Love may come and go, but herpes is forever.”
I laugh. A lot. And according to a great portion of the population, the amount of time I spend laughing is noteworthy. I can’t even tell you how often my laugher is the center of a conversation or the source of confusion. It’s not that I sound like a goose, or wheeze uncontrollably it’s just that apparently, I laugh a lot more than the average Jane. Case in point: a former coworker of mine once told me, “Even if I can’t see you, I always know where you are. I just follow the laughing…”
I have a fantasy that I will be the next “Dear Abby…” I have such a fascination (which is my nice way of saying “nosey”) with people and their thoughts and worries and what could be more exciting than being trusted to give them advice. I mean really, c’mon.
I really hate doing housework. There isn’t too much that can make me more foul than looking at a mess and knowing that I’m the sucker that has to clean it.
I love cracking my bones; knuckles, toes, neck, back, wrist, whatever will pop. I know it’s gross, not to mention somewhat obnoxious, but I really can’t ignore how good it feels.
And lastly (for now, as you’ll learn more about me than is necessary if you come back and read this blog with any regularity):
I have embarrassed myself so much throughout my life that I hardly ever actually feel embarrassed anymore. It’s probably the only real benefit to having been such a weird, awkward and physically and mentally clumsy person for so long.
Well, I’m off for a refill…