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Self-Importance. March 9, 2009

Posted by Julie Momster in Uncategorized.
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My brain is currently baby-fried. Perhaps most accurately referred to as “why the fuck won’t my husband let me sleep when he knows I have to wake up 300 million times with snuffly baby and then raise my ass like the dead at the ass crack of dawn to gather and prepare for baby to go to baby-sitter and for me to go to work and I WANT A NAP!” syndrome.

Needless to say, I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night. Or any of the past few nights.

I did get to watch Hancock though – which was, in fact, a ridiculously good movie. Kudos to Will Smith.

But, I digress… Often, apparently.

I am at a loss for an all-original post for today, imaginary readers. So instead, I am going to get all self-important, full of myself, “look at how awesome I am, because I am awesome!” on your asses – and do that 25 Things You Never Really Wanted To Know About Me meme that’s been floating around lately. Enjoy!


1. When I was a little little kid, whenever my cousin Courtney and I would go over to our Grandma’s house, we would fight over the dog cage. As in, fight as to who got to be locked IN said dog cage. There were battles waged on these grounds, and some of those chew toys have yet to recover.

2. I have about 5 words that I can never pronounce correctly. My brain has learned the correct way to say it, but every time I think of it, I doubt myself. Thus effectively saying the word the incorrect way. Again. “Cannibinoid” is a good example. Is it “CAN-i-bi-noid” or “Can-IB-i-noid”? I JUST DON’T KNOW!!!!!111!!!1!!

3. I collect Buddha Statues.

The belly is great for my self-esteem

->The belly is great for my self-esteem

In no way, shape, or form am I Buddhist – for in all honesty I don’t believe in any organized religion – but I keep these around for company. At one time I tried to convince myself that the little tiny one was good luck, but then I tripped going up the stairs and threw that notion in the trash. I still keep the offending little bastard around though. Just not near any stairs.

4. I think my husband looks like a strange cross between Dan Akroyd and Chevy Chase. And it kinda gets me hot. I have yet to figure out why.

5. I refuse to eat at Jack In The Box. Even though it’s been years since that E. Coli outbreak they had, I still can’t help envisioning it as this greasy, dirty, germ-infested House of DEATH!

6. I have horrible luck with cars. I won’t go into my full history, but I have put 7 cars to their deaths. I will make my post tomorrow about this. Remind me.

7. I cannot sleep with socks on. It can be -494,725,252 degrees (which it often was growing up in my dad’s house), and I will still get so hot from having them on, that I’ll have to strip them off in the middle of the night and discard them next to the bed. I lose more socks this way than any other method. When will I learn?!

8. Crack cocaine is nowhere near as addictive to me as Starburst candy. I know this to be fact. I have compared.

9. My brain has a maximum threshold for remembering approximately 10 birth dates. However, I can still tell you what my best friend’s home phone number was when we were 5. No, Seriously. I am a virtual phone book. Well, except when it comes to my own phones. I’ve had so many cell phones since I turned 18, that I can’t even remember the one I have now.

10. when I was in grade school, I had several poems published in a state-wide poetry book thingie. I would quote the poem here, but trust me, my opinion of myself in that area is already pretty damn low – no sense getting out the shotgun.

11. I refuse to play video games against my husband. REFUSE! That bastard is the Bobby Fischer of gaming. I don’t know how, but somehow he has developed this intuitive nature where he knows how to play EVERY game that was ever created, on any and all consoles. He stomps me so hard that I cry. I dare you to come over and play against him – we’ll even break out our original Nintendo for it.

12. My goal in life is to live on a beach somewhere, permanently encased in a hammock, with a Mai Tai in one hand and a book in the other. This more-or-less coincides with Mikey’s desire to study Marine Biology. I am secretly working on a way to combine the two. Although, apparently, not secretly anymore.

13. I think I’m finally over my David Bowie fascination. Maybe. I never thought he was über-sexii or anything, but he’s just so cooooool. I mean, have you really listened to Ziggy Stardust?! As in, the whole album? Pure Genius. Crazy, warped, dance-your-pants-off genius. I am dancing in my special ergonomic chair at the mere thought! Hmmm, maybe not over it after all…

14. I don’t understand the thing about tall buildings not having a 13th floor. Dude, you guys TOTALLY have a 13th floor! Just because you ignore physics and call it the 14th Floor doesn’t mean shit. No dice, bro-skis – That’s like taking a bat, gluing feathers on it, and calling it a bird. Woah.. now where the ‘eff did THAT come from?!

15. In reference to previous ‘question-to-self’, sometimes I don’t know how phrases make it out of my mouth. No sane person would willing use the term “Blows dogs for quarters”, or “Kosher like a pickle in a Deli”, or my bat-bird reference without at least acknowledging the fact that they are likely to get slapped. I don’t know how I’ve avoided it for this long.

16. Call me crazy, but I did not mind childbirth. Maybe it had to do with the epidurals, but I just didn’t think it was all that bad. Well, okay, the part where she was half-in, half-out while they undid her cord from her neck kind of HURT LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER, but really, it was so small of a percentage of the time that it’s practically negligible.

17. However, I hated pregnancy! Sure, you can eat whatever you like. Technically. You have to keep the excess afterwards, which is just aggravating. But it was just 9 months of being uncomfortable, and tired, and crabby, and kicked at from the inside, and oh my GOD will these crazy hormones ever CEASE AND DESIST?!

18. That being said, I love being a mama! Nothing makes me happier than talking to my little girl, and watching her babble and coo and make faces that look EXACTLY like her father when he gets drunk. I swear, aside from her eyes, she really looks like she fell right out of his ass. It’s hilarious when she gets mad – she looks like a very angry old man.

19. I love to cook. this does not necessarily translate into my being a good cook. I can make a mean roast, and my twice-baked potatoes have been compared to Heaven, but I have no idea how to make a soufflé, and the dynamics of yeast-y breads are completely beyond me.

20. I used to be really good at math. I mean, ridiculously good. I went to a mat/science summit conference for girls when I was in like, 6th grade. Then I took a version of the SATs in 7th grade. Also took the P-SATs in 10th grade – I missed exactly question in the math section, due to a retarded fill-in-the-wrong-circle moment on my part. I’m still pissed about that.

21. I do not now, nor have I ever, owned a copy of my Senior year yearbook. I worked on this yearbook for a semester. I refused to buy one. 95% of the staff were girls – mean, clique-y girls who, and while I was not part of their group, I never thought they hated me. Until I read their photo captions. They were not kind – to me, or anyone else. The one of mine that sticks out in my head was “Julia ******* is acting crazy for anyone unfortunate enough to sit with her at lunch.” Ow. My Pride..

22. I think getting wasted is completely retarded. I’m all down for having some drinks, getting a little bit goofy. But ever since the night I can’t remember driving home, I’ve come to the realization that I hate getting plastered. I’m talking three-sheets-to-the-wind kind of drunkeness. You get puke-y, you fall down everywhere, you feel funky, and you end up doing things like trying to breakdance to “Ice, Ice Baby” when never before in your life have you ever even THOUGHT you could breakdance. It was not pretty.

23. I don’t care what you say: Penises (“Penii”) are fucking funny.

24. I have never been able to keep a coat of nail polish on my nails for more than 2 days. Or rather, it will BE there, it will just be so chipped that it looks like a chunk out of the Berlin Wall.

25. I have never dropped acid. I’ve always been interested in trying it, but I realize that 1: it lasts for-freakin’-EVER and 2: have you ever seen the studies on lab rats on acid? Sorry, want to keep control of my mind afterwards. So, when I still kinda-sorta-wanna try acid, I watch Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. The scene in the bar with all the monsters and the trippy floor? Totally like taking drugs, except safe. And legal.



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