You've got to start somewhere
Per request of my supposed best friend, Nathan Wood, my first post will be telling you lot a bit about myself and to make my first blog about them so that you can know exactly what you are getting yourself into.
I don't like repetitive noises. Have you ever played the game catch phrase? No? Well I have. The game consists of only 5 pieces. One being a palm sized round button that you press to begin a countdown (I also don't like countdowns), for your teams turn. Why does it haunt me in my worst nightmares? It beeps, and as the 30 seconds that the button allows your team for your turn comes to an end, the beeping speeds up, raising my stress level. I think that is why it is Nathan's favorite game
I hate asking for help. I like figuring things out by myself. Most find this irrational or illogical...which may be true. I suppose that I can't really argue that that matters not. I am a lone wolf...a lone wolf with friends.
I have the directional skills of a sponge. One of the kitchen sponges...not the live ones. It does not matter how many times I have driven somewhere, or the time I have spent looking up directions, I will almost always have to look up my final destinations. It's pathetic and I accept that.
I'm as indecisive as they come, and I usually do things that other people want to do because I'd rather them be the decision makers. Which, I do not find fault in. That way, other people have the opportunity to choose what they want to do.
I have a tendency to go with my knee jerk reactions. No matter how loud, it just comes out. I'm like a loose cannon cop. Without the cop part.
I hate the word "fine." In my eyes, fine means "okay," "mediocre," "acceptable," and so on and so forth. If you ask me how I feel and I say "fine," by my definition, that is not a good thing. Make me watch a funny movie, stat. OR, if I ask someone how I look (and lets say we're in a hurry) and they say, "you look fine, let's go" then I will change. I don't care if you're in a rush. **This is not to be confused with, "you are fiiiiiiiine." I think that has a different definition of its own.
I'm terrified of heights. Self-explanitory, right?
I feel as though I didn't cover all the bases...Nathan has just been so nit-picky this week. I'm almost positive he'll blog back at me all that I have forgotten. So here's to Nathan and Ryan, the boys that keep in in line. Or something like that.
I have the directional skills of a sponge. One of the kitchen sponges...not the live ones. It does not matter how many times I have driven somewhere, or the time I have spent looking up directions, I will almost always have to look up my final destinations. It's pathetic and I accept that.
I'm as indecisive as they come, and I usually do things that other people want to do because I'd rather them be the decision makers. Which, I do not find fault in. That way, other people have the opportunity to choose what they want to do.
I have a tendency to go with my knee jerk reactions. No matter how loud, it just comes out. I'm like a loose cannon cop. Without the cop part.
I hate the word "fine." In my eyes, fine means "okay," "mediocre," "acceptable," and so on and so forth. If you ask me how I feel and I say "fine," by my definition, that is not a good thing. Make me watch a funny movie, stat. OR, if I ask someone how I look (and lets say we're in a hurry) and they say, "you look fine, let's go" then I will change. I don't care if you're in a rush. **This is not to be confused with, "you are fiiiiiiiine." I think that has a different definition of its own.
I'm terrified of heights. Self-explanitory, right?
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