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50 things about me
The
Faith to my Willow.
This one is totally irrational and I know it. I just don’t like it when people cover themselves in paint and don’t move or speak and expect me to find it cool and exciting. Because they always move and do weird shit like look at me without actually looking at me and never speak and they just make me very uncomfortable okay I don’t like them.
And you might think that that’s really awesome and you wish you could, but it’s actually really awkward. Because most people aren’t good at that. So it’s totally normal for people to apologize and say they forgot your name or say they remember you from somewhere.
But it’s kind of fucking weird to be the guy who says, “Oh my god! Person! Remember that class we had first semester of freshman year but you actually dropped it after three weeks but we sat next to each other on the first day? How have you been?!”
I’m that guy. And it’s weird to be that guy.
And to explain how good I am at remembering names and faces, a guy just biked past where I was sitting, and I only saw his face for like, a fraction of a second before he was past me. His name is Mike and we had English 109 first semester freshman year. One and a half years ago. I have not seen him since.
I guess I live in the now. Sometimes I think I live in the past, which is flatly terrible. But I don’t know how to think about a future with anybody. Might be a general problem…
In my memory, there has only been one instance where I chickened out of something thrill ride-related, and to be honest, I regret it. A lot. (It’s one of my top regrets, which says a lot about how easy my life has been.) I did not ride the Top Thrill Dragster at Cedar Point the one time I was there. I will remedy the fuck out of that someday. I’ve jumped off of a mountain in the Alps of southern Germany. I’ve ridden the Sky Coaster at Kennywood any number of times. No, I kinda love thrill rides.
Although for some reason the Pitfall at Kennywood scares the shit out of me. It’s not really a big deal, it just takes you up really high and drops you, which is the same thing the Sky Coaster does except more secure, but I have issues with it. But I still ride it, bitches. I face my fears like a god damned soldier. Sort of.
Once I put my mind to something, I usually do it. Interpersonal relationships are that way, too. If I have something that I actually need and really want to say, I’ll say it. I’m not too afraid of being open or vulnerable to other people. I have very little qualms about sharing my own secrets. As a result, I have very few. The way I treat people is almost always how I actually feel about them.
I’m not afraid of taking risks, emotionally or mentally. Physically, well, I’m not particularly physical, so probably less so there, but still. I like to jump off of really tall shit, so that says something.
It’s a matter of deciding for me. I’ll beat around the bush for ages and ages, until a decision is made, and then that’s that. I might look back while going through with the decision, but I rarely change my mind. And I kind of like that about myself.
In high school, I always wanted to learn how to salsa. Now I think what I really wanted to learn was cha cha but I didn’t know the difference.
I can follow waltz, Viennese waltz, foxtrot, tango, rumba, east coast swing, west coast swing, jive, cha cha, salsa, mambo, hustle, bachata, merengue, and samba. Samba not as well as the others, though, because it’s fucking hard. The technique for samba is ridiculous and if I could do it I would love it, but since I can’t, I don’t.
And the funny thing about learning to follow is that once you can do it at all, it’s easier to do on dances you’ve never done before. A couple weeks ago, my friend Sean started doing Lindy Hop with me and I may have tried it like, once, ever. But I could follow it, because I can follow.
I love dancing. I love it so much. The club I’m in has drama coming out the ears right now, but I keep going because I love dancing. I’m not very good or anything, but it’s understandable since I’ve only done it for a year and a half. I still have a ton to learn, technique wise. But I’m getting there.
I might put up videos at some point.
My favorite dances are probably foxtrot, cha cha, east coast swing, west coast swing, and tango. And waltz. And rumba. Fuck.
And I mean this globally.
I was talking about him with Alyssa this morning, and I realized exactly how much I love this man. And that much is a lot much.
Basically he saved me from Post-Potter Depression with Doctor Who and Sherlock. And I love him. And he has a cool accent. And he knows Mark Gatiss. And Benedict. And Matt and Karen and Arthur. And he’s a talented writer and an amazing troll. And I just love him.
I have a favorite color, but that’s about it. I don’t have a favorite food, or a favorite song, or a favorite band, or a favorite dessert, or a favorite movie.
It comes from me being really indecisive.
And I really hate when people ask me about favorite “X” because I’m like “uhhh…”
I mean I can list some favorite things, Von Trapp style, but that’s about it.
This post is too long now. XD
But not in an “I can’t eat it” kind of way.
For some reason, whenever I cook with flour, it gets up my nose and I sneeze for like, hours.
The reason I think I have a mild nasal allergy to flour is because even when I’m cooking with other people, no one else ever sneezes. This has been going on for years.
I still cook with flour.
After all, aren’t sneezes like 1/8th of an orgasm or something?
The Christmas season is always such a great time of year, because everyone is trying to emulate the message of the holiday: Peace and goodwill toward your fellow man.
It’s not necessarily Christmas Day itself that I love. I mean, yeah, I fucking love opening presents and eating my weight in turkey and stuffing, but it’s the whole season that I really love.
And in the UK, they don’t have Thanksgiving in November like we Amurricans do, so they get two whole months of Christmas cheer and I was jealous, so I started Christmas in November this year. I have every intention of doing the same next year and every year after.
I also really love Christmas music. I don’t really care that half of it is related to a religion that I’m not particularly invested in. I really love the Christian Christmas carols just as much as the secular ones.
And Christmas movies. The animated Grinch movie, bro. Nothing beats it. And Love, Actually. I remember, when I was like, 9, in the middle of July I had a Christmas movie marathon in the basement by myself. It was awesome. Because Christmas movies are awesome.
And the decorations… My roommates and I don’t have a lot of decorations, but we do have a tree (made of green wrapping paper XD) and some lights and a silver wreath. There’s some Christmas cheer in this house, but man, not enough. Never enough.
Some people say Christmas has become entirely materialistic and commercialized, but you know what, Charlie Brown? I don’t care. I like it. It’s nice to buy things for people you love and see their faces brighten when they open a gift that’s truly been thought about.
Now is as good a time as any to comment on my top fandoms and my subsequent OTPs in said fandoms.
With Thanksgiving coming up, I guess I’ll share this tidbit of information about me. It’s definitely one of the cooler things that I’ve done in my life.
My freshman year of high school was definitely the best year. I met a lot of really cool people that year, who would be long-term friends throughout high school and even now in college. And these people I met… in marching band.
Marching band my freshman year was actually pretty intense. The staff was pretty harsh on things like individual marching and individual playing. Why? Because we were playing in the friggen Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.
In 2006, I marched in the 80th Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. In the front line of my band. In the very cold rain.
I got up at 2 in the morning and had rehearsal at 3. I slept on the band bus for a few hours. The plume on my helmet was drenched. And it was one of the most amazing things I’ve ever done. It was the first time I ever went to New York City, though I’ve been there many times since. It was just… an amazing experience to march down Broadway into Times Square with the eyes of the entire nation on me, with the drum cadence behind me.
It’s an experience I’ll never forget.
I’m not a fair-weather fan of my city, though. Don’t mistake that. I am forever a Steeler fan and a Pens fan, even if a passive one for the most part.
But now that I live on the other side of the country, I realize exactly how awesome a place Pittsburgh is. I realize that I miss dumb things about Pittsburgh that I used to think were annoying - like the accents. God, I miss Pittsburgh accents so much. I miss people speaking in Pittsburghese.
I miss pierogies and band hoagies and the skyline of the city and snow.
But when I’m away from Pittsburgh, I see the differences between people there and people here in Tucson. People are a lot friendlier when they first meet you in Pittsburgh. It’s all open arms and laughter and (practically) interrogations about your personal life. People here are a lot less… nebby.
But I miss the nebby because the nebby shows exactly how interested people are in getting to know you. I’ve definitely adapted to the more stand-offish way of thinking that is “outside Pittsburgh” but that doesn’t mean that I like it.
Ah, Pittsburgh.
How I miss you. It’s a beautiful city filled with beautiful yinzers, and I miss it.
For many, many years my favorite color was green. And then junior year of high school I saw Slumdog Millionaire and my favorite color changed to orange. Because hey, Bollywood uses a lot of orange.
And that movie affected me a lot when I first saw it. It entirely deserved to win the Oscar for Best Picture. It was amazing.
