Hello, folks. Have you ever noticed how hard it is to break a silence, the longer it stretches? Yeah.
That’s where I am right now.
I’ve even had good reason not to be here.
A cancer scare counts as a good reason, doesn’t it?
Well, anyway, here I am, for what I’m worth. What follows is one of those “25 Things” things I’d written awhile ago for something else. It’s edited, so there aren’t 25 of the things anymore, it’s not that I can’t count.
In my youth, I wanted to be a truckdriver.
I have a scar on my knee that looks like a lightning bolt, if you squint and you’re drunk. I got it while climbing between cars, sliced it wide open on a rusty license plate. It was the first time I hurt myself and didn’t cry. It was also last week.
I have two things I doodle over and over. “3-D” boxes and tornados.
I would give both feet to be able to dance. Defeats the purpose, but there it is.
I write fan fiction in my head. Sometimes for things I’m not even a fan of. I have a Batman movie, a Sherlock Holmes story and two Dr. Who episodes rattling around up there at the moment.
I love, love, love cars. If I were rich, I’d have the biggest garage ever, full of totally awesome cars. Oh, and my own racetrack.
My husband can make me laugh harder than anybody else.
I am the baby of four girls.
However, I was raised as an only child.
I am very vain about my eye color.
I despise doctors.
I will not wait to eat. If there’s a wait at a restaurant, I leave. Even more so if it’s just some stupid chain restaurant. Exceptions to this include being with other people.
My favorite thing in the world to eat is a homemade scrambled egg sandwich with mayo.
I miss my grandparents and their farm almost everyday.
I am very good at pretending that everything is fine.