Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Interesting ... or not?

A friend recently wrote on her blog about Katie Holmes, and how uninteresting she is. I started my own self-analysis, and have pondered this for many days now, mentally racking up my own "interesting" points. Here's what I think (feel free to add your own in the comments section):

  • I am a sports nut. I am a huge fan of New England teams (duh). The Patriots are a close second to the Red Sox. Not interesting? How about the Red Sox tattoo on my wrist? Could be classified as stupid or freaky, but for me it shows my undying love and dedication to my favorite sports team.

  • My musical taste is often questionable. My iPod reveals this. I have everything from 2 Live Crew to Abba, and includes Dan Fogelberg, Jimmy Buffett, Linkin Park, Disturbed, Drowning Pool, Carly Simon and Billy Joel.

  • Thinking, thinking, thinking for more...

  • I hate to cook. Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I like to cook. The cooking in this house is done by a very masculine man. If you don't believe me you can see him for yourself on ESPN or the Military Channel.

  • I live for celebrity gossip. Yeah, yeah, I know what "those" people say about the gossip rags, but please, you think Perez Hilton is famous for his good looks?

  • I don't like kids. I love my own, but most kids bother the snot out of me. I truly believe parents these days are apathetic and lazy. You may think it's cute your kid is tearing ass around the store, but when your fuck trophy almost makes me trip over them, I seriously would like to chuck them down the aisle. I don't like loud, rude kids, which accounts for most of the kids I see in stores, and the parents do absolutely nothing. Hey, parents, get a hold of yourself, discipline your kid and maybe I'd stop giving you the angry eyeball.

  • I heart animals. Okay, it did sound kind of harsh that I don't like kids, but my heart and soul bleeds when I hear of crimes against children. When I hear of innocent kids and animals who are beaten, kidnapped, killed, etc. I want to curl up in a little ball in the dark on my bed and cry. You want to get me mad, let me see you hit a child or chain your dog to a tree. I reserve the right to do the same right back to you and see how you like it.

  • I used to cry. All the time. I was once a sensitive soul. Twelve years of marriage to an Army man and six deployments later have turned my once-tender soul into a shriveled, cold heart. Ok, that is not entirely true, but I have become a much better controller of my emotions. Cry because I'm depressed? Nope. It takes a lot to make me cry nowadays? Why? Because I'm so used to being "strong". If I cried over everything that bothered me, especially when the hubby is deployed, I would be one big weeping mess, 24/7. I guess you could say I have to pick and choose my crying times.

  • Give me a few beers and see what happens. This could be anything from pee-your-pants watching me karaoke and dance Britney-style to attempting to ride a 6-year-old's tiny bike and flying Superman-style over the handlebars. It's always a good time.

That's about all I can finagle right now. Quite an eye-opener to myself. I suppose instead of interesting, I could be classified as many other things (fill in the blank).

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