You Can't Handle the Truth!

Things I've tried to keep under wraps in the past but have just begun thinking aren't so totally freaky. I'm guessing everyone shares a few of these. I'm sick of carrying around little shadows so here they are in broad daylight. Does anyone have the guts to tell me they're perfect? It's another list but just bear with me. I'm feeling awfully listy lately:

I practice "witty" retorts in the bathroom mirror late at night.

Sometimes I call my toddler "frickin' frick-head" when I'm fed up with her (not a witty retort).

I imagine elaborate situations involving my own/my loved one's deaths just to exercise my lazy emotions.

I have a favorite sibling. You only have a 1 in 8 chance of guessing him/her correctly.

I suck whipped cream straight from the can.

I obsessively pick at my scalp when I'm tense.

I'm a Republican just because my parents are and keep hoping that if I ignore political issues they'll just go away (just like every good Republican should). Laissez-faire at its best!

I can never keep my eyes closed during prayers.

I don't cuss except for when I'm in the car alone. There are no rules in the car.

I check out other girl's rear ends (no, not in that way, you sicko! Just to see what I'm up against).

I categorically believe all Asians and elderly all bad drivers.

My undergrad degree in Sociology from BYU was a total joke. A piece of Romaine lettuce could have gotten that degree.

Money frequently buys me happiness.

I'm a traitor to my sex. I'm squeemish about chick flicks, manicures, talking on the phone and conversations about feelings.

I'm creeped out by men who spend more than five minutes getting dressed. Are they trying to look better than I do?


Before you go calling me a weirdo, think about what your imperfections are. Then get back to me.