I have so much to say and I'm hoping that your arms are open.

So, this post is going to be a mini-autobiography.

People tend not to know the real me; the little things that make me who I am. This will hopefully clear up any questions you may or may not have had for me in the span of time you have known me.

I was born in a blackout. What the heck does that have to do with who you are? you are probably thinking. Well, to tell the truth: nothing. But that's where I begin. And that's just one piece of trivia I thought you should know about me.
I love animals. Most kinds (not the ones that could tear me limb from limb usually). My first job was at a farm park. It was the best job I've ever had. Animals are more human than a whole heck of a lot of the population. I was raised around them and with them and by them. For a year or two in elementary school, I had no real friends. I had goats. I loved those goats more than most people I knew. Natasha was my shadow. I'm pretty sure she was schizophrenic but I loved her for her. She saved my life one day. I was walking around the large goat field barefoot (as is natural for me) and was stung by a bee. I climbed on to Natasha's back and steered her to the barn. She was always there for me. I love my dogs and my cat. I constantly try to hold conversations with them about intellectual type things. They always look like they understand exactly what I'm saying. I promise that I'm not crazy.
I have depression. It's not all that awful. I can have my days. Most days are pretty good, actually. I've tried two or three different antis but everything is too large a dose for my size or my body rejects it and I physically feel like I'm dying. I joke that when I tried to take the stuff, on the way to the toilet to throw up, I felt like skipping.
I think a lot. More than is actually healthy, I think. It's one of those depression things. I tend to start a thought and then dissect it for hours or even days on end. My mind doesn't shut down. Like ever.
I have attention deficit disorder. Yes, I know that kind of clashes with the whole obsessive thought thing. You think that hasn't crossed my mind? It can get kind of fun when I'm not actually stuck on one concrete thought. My brain races a mile a minute and I'm jumping from subject to subject in seconds.
I tend to change my hair whenever I feel like I need to change my life. In fact, I dyed it just tonight. It's been bright auburn, black, strawberry blond, dirty blond, my natural brunette and now it's "Sweet Cola." I guess it's how I cope with my times.
I have the awesomest sister in the world. She's there to get me through everything. Even though we're twenty-ish years apart, it only feels like a year or two. She dropped what she was doing and came over tonight to help me put highlights in (except they're invisible now...).
I love to sing. I sing all the time. At work to my boss (she doesn't appreciate it). At home to my dogs (they don't either). To my best friends (sometimes they do). Actually, singing is the only thing that can get my mind off of whatever it's stuck on. Music is my therapy.
Poetry is sort of my thing. I have notebooks full of stuff I've written. Most of it was in high school when I was a thousand times more confused with life than I am now. I haven't written a good thing since.
I'm not as sarcastic as everyone thinks. One day I simply answered the phone and my sister freaked out that I was being sarcastic. "I just said 'Hello...'" I promise that I'm not. I have an incredibly monotone voice 74% of the time that I talk. Sorry to any of you that have been mistaken by this.
I have a stupendous memory. I remember things that seem impossible to. Actually, it's not so much the memories. It's the details.
I have a lot of scars. I'm pretty clumsy. I fell off an Amish buggy when I was 5 or so and now I have a scar on my chin. In second grade, was skipping around recess with my friend Brittany and I tripped and fell on the tanbark and now I have one on my shoulder. I was lacing up my spikes for springs in 8th grade and someone bumped me and I dug the spikes into my knee. I fell off my porch (only a foot off the ground) and scraped my ankle. I was pushing prop palm trees around the stage during a rehearsal of South Pacific and one fell on me.
It looks like a 6 year old girl lives in my room. One wall is pink, another yellow, another orange, and the last one is white with those colored blocks... There are butterflies, fairy wings, dolls, flowers, stuffed animals, children's books, and tons of sparkly stuff. What can I say? I like happy things.
I need people to know how I feel about them. It's as simple as that. I don't straight up tell people I don't like them. I feel obligated to let people know when I like them. It's kind of annoying.
I can hold a grudge like no one I know. If you do me wrong, you might think that I've forgiven you but whatever you did is definitely in the back of my mind.
I'm an observer. I like to watch people for their actions and reactions. When going out with a group of friends to bowl or what have you, I would rather sit and watch and take it all in.
Sometimes I would rather imply things than admit them obviously. Maybe that goes hand in hand with my true sarcasm.
I love to talk. I love to talk so people who I know are listening in are entertained. I've had many conversations with friends, solely for the people around to listen. It sounds weird, I know, but I like to be that one conversation you overhear and laugh at and tell your friends about later.
I'm not a very sympathetic or empathetic person. I can't even explain that one for you. I'm just not.
I know when I'm beautiful. I'm not going to say, "Ooooh, my hair looks horrible" or "This makes me look (fat, lumpy, disproportionate, etc)" or "I'm so gross right now." No. I know I'm amazing.


I'm starting to run out of things to tell you.