Have you ever thought consciously about the things that make up who you are?
More and more lately I am going through processes of self-discovery…(assuredly not as psycho-analytical as it sounds) and am learning, much to my chagrin and pleasant surprise, those obscure nuances that make me the undeniably….me person that I am.
Or the way that I’ve had my library card number memorized since I was 12.
That I have dreams of owning a cupcake shop and having dogs to run with (I’m totally calling myself a nerd at this point in time so you don’t have to).
That I will never post cool instagram photos.
That I have private jam sessions in my car to this song.
That I have this movie on my Netflix instant queue.
That I cried while reading a blog during class once. And my parents once found me crying my eyes out to Titanic at midnight. By myself.
That this is my pleasure reading.
That my summer bucket list consisted of creating a recipe book and going to a farmer’s market.
That I’ve fallen off a treadmill TWICE, but have kissed ZERO boys. …yeah.
That cookbooks are my favorite gifts.
That I have an embarrassing crush on Dennis Quaid.
That I make mix CDs for different stages of relationships I’m in with boys.
That I have an unhealthy obsession with waffles AND peanut butter.
That I relate more to old people.
That my style is “granny-chic” (it HAS been termed as such).
That I am constantly battle an orthorexic mentality with a wicked sweet tooth.
That the omnipresent red line under my name in a Word document still disheartens me.
That I think crock pots are the greatest appliances to ever happen.
That I own and constantly jam to multiple Jay-Z albums.
That I am an aspiring journalist who derides today’s entertainment “news” coverage, but can have at-length conversations with my mother about Miley Cyrus’ new haircut and “Dance Moms.”
That I watched C-SPAN for fun in high school.
Well, yeah. That’s me. And you know, I’m learning to accept it.
PS – Like, ever.