My Very Second Post

Good morning world! I woke up asking myself what I would write today. I thought maybe I could tell you the dream I had last night but it was too vague to retell in any way that makes sense. I could reveal how nearly every morning I wake up depressed and I want to sleep in as long as I can. But that's too depressing. Then I was illuminated with a brilliant idea: toilet paper. Everyone has their own way of using toilet paper. I know this because I remember my dad teaching me how when I was quite young. He said you measure about four or five sheets, tear it along the perforation, and then fold them on the dotted line and wipe. So neat and clean. Contrast that with MY way (which I hadn't really noticed until recently). I basically yank the paper and when it stops rolling I rip it off. Then I wad it up in my hand and wipe. I was having this discussion at Costco with my sister way in the back where they keep the TP and paper towels. I explained that I can't be bothered to meticulously measure or fold. I have more important things to get back to doing! But it's interesting to think about. This is another one of those things that reveals something about you. I challenge each of you to be aware of how you use your TP next time and see what you learn about yourself!Onto more 'appropriate' topics: Um, gee. I actually don't have anything else to say. I guess I didn't plan this far ahead. Don't worry I'll think of something in a sec.Aha! I realized yesterday that it would be easier for you to understand my eyebrow issue if you could see an actual photo of me as a child instead of just relying on my incompetent description so here you go:As you can see, there is a distinct cowlick. Infact, my parents taught me as a little girl what I should say when an adult asked me about them. I was to inform them that a cow licked them. Aw, how cute, right? I do appologize for the poor quality of the photo. It's a cropped, enlarged, scanned print that is over 20 years old. My little girl just did this awesome thing I thought you'd like to hear about. She was watching 101 Dalmatians in her room when the doorbell starts ringing incessantly. You just know it's one of the neighbor's kids. So I tell her to go get the door and what follows is the conversation I overhear. neighbor kid: Hi, can you play?my daughter: I'm watching a movie.neighbor kid: Can you ask your mom if you can play?my daughter: It's almost done. And she closes the door and runs back upstairs to finish her movie. Don't you just love how kids are so direct. They don't play those 'polite' games that adults play. So pure. Gosh, am I boring? I haven't taken my antidepressants yet so that could account for it. Oh, I know. I was gonna take you back into my illustrious childhood. When I was a wee girl I wanted to be Pippi Longstocking. Now that girl had moxie. Bright red hair in braids that stuck straight out. My mom was so awesome she actually did my hair like that for Halloween once. She embedded wires in my hair to hold it straight. I also wanted to be a clown. I'm not one of those many people who think that clowns are evil and scary. Clowns are fantastic. They are larger than life, colorful, playful and pull jokes to delight and entertain. That's why I always wanted to be one. I'm just afraid that one of those impertinent kind of kids will yank my perfectly neon pink wig off and I'll be left the crying clown. I wanted to have curly hair when I was a child. Scratch that-I still do want to have curly hair. Wild and free. The kind that no amount of scolding, shaming or guilt trips could ever tame. That's the essence of my spirit. I just want to be uninhibitedly happy. 'Girls just wanna have fun' I love that song.And now, to change subjects: I am not an army brat. I'm not even a brat. I lived all over the world growing up including Nepal, Pakistan, Japan and Korea (in that order). Don't ask me about Nepal, I was too young to remember most of it. I do have one funny memory though: I'm in preschool or joy school or something and there's a man with a puppet singing H-A-P-P-Y and I'm thinking 'pee pee?' and I feel kinda dirty and why is everyone supposed to sing along and smile? My sister and I shoot each other knowing looks when someone asks us where we're from. Oh boy, here we go again. It's such a long story and it always goes the same way. I discovered the script to it and it goes something like this:So, where are you from?All over/Virginia, originally/ heavenOh really? Are you an army brat? (I HATE that question and people always say with this smirk because they secretly enjoy getting away with asking me if I'm a brat!)No, State Department. (Now I have them hooked)Really! Where have you lived?Well, Nepal, Pakistan, Japan and Korea (I deadpan)Holy Toledo! Which place did you like the best? Japan, because that's where I had the most fun. Korea the least because it's a very difficult place to live and I don't remember much of Nepal because I was a baby. I remember it rained one day in Pakistan.Wow, what's it like living all over the world?Well, I can't really say because I've never really grown up in one place so I can't compare. But I can say that I've been around lots of different people and cultures so I think that's helped to make me more open-minded.Now, after having read this you have a responsibility. If you ever meet me in person you are forbidden from asking me where I am from so we can avoid having this whole conversation over again. Because, really, as my sister can attest to, it does get old and very predictable. And I know I'm not the only one out there who can relate to this scenario.I'm feeling tired of typing now so I'll close with one last thought, as soon as I think of it...Children live in the moment. It's very good for your soul. I'm going to try to do this more today. Bye bye-Angie