1.) I cannot remember to pluck my eyebrows.
Like ever. It all comes to a head when I do a double take wondering if I’ve got just a touch too much foundation near my eyebrows only to realize it’s been over a month since I gave them some attention. For my sister’s wedding last month, I had my make-up done. As I’m surveying the wonder that is even skin tone I realize I can’t even remember the last time I gave the ‘ol caterpillars a pluck.
2.) Dairy doesn’t do good things to me.
I’d say you have a 50/50 chance of witnessing me double over in agony after slurping down a quart of frozen yogurt or snarfing a bowl of steaming mac ‘n cheese. I can’t say no and I pay the price. Le sigh.
3.) I make up theme songs for my dog.
We already knew that I was a crazy dog lady and that Charlie is a straight up dog child in this house — but I’m pretty sure this is taking it to the next level. Currently our neighbors have the pleasure of hearing me belt the following tune each night when I get home from work:
His name is Charlie
He’s a small dog…
With a big heart.
I wish I could tell you the tune that I sing it too, but only heaven knows where I got it (or I may have made it up).
4.) Turns out I watched H.R. Pufnstuf as a child.
I spent many an hour trying to figure out what show I watched growing up with a magic flute. Which, until, recently never yielded much in the results category. However, I stumbled across H.R. Pufnstuf on Netflix and found myself a highly disturbing show that fit the bill of my magic flute. Enjoy:
5.) I don’t really like football.
When I say I don’t like football, this does not apply to tailgating. You can’t pry my hot dog obsessed self away from a parking lot filled with grills, coolers and tailgating food. But, when you get to the game part — not so interested. I’d rather chat or, if I’m at home, take a nap until the last few minutes of the fourth quarter. I’m not American… I know.
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