Annie waits... for the last time

Here are some things about me that you may or may not have known.

My mom REALLY wanted me. My grandma was so tickled by how desperately my mom wanted a girl that if I were a boy, she would get to keep me. They both got what they wanted, I guess! (but my grandma didn't get to keep Kyle, which is something I'm sure she was later grateful for...)
As a girl I was to be called Annie. If I were a boy it would've been Andy. Since we were twins, we couldn't be called Annie and Andy. Think about it. I still hold a grudge against Kyle, considering the name Annie is WAY cuter than Kari as a girls name. Kari is one of those androgenous names, although it is a bit more girlish than boyish. I mean hey, look at Cary Elwes.

I feel guilty if I don't dry my hair in the morning (although without fail, I always dry my bangs, or fringe as the English call it. I know. Weird). So if you see me sporting a ponytail, you can be rest assured that I'm nursing a major guilt trip.

Sometimes I don't wash my face at night just to be defiant. Or because I think I've earned the right not to--"Hey, I had a REALLY rough day and I'm tired! I deserve not to have to get proper ready for bed!"

This one time, the most popular and cutest boy in school (he was a sixth grader, I think I was a fourth grader), named Kenny, went up to me... and asked me... if my name was Penelope. After I said no, he turned around and went back to his group of friends and they all laughed at him. In the group was a girl named Dawn. When I was a first grader, we used to have these buddies that would come to class, and she was mine. I was her "hairdo friend." I don't think either of us really knew what that meant, except it sounded really cool at the time.

I feel guilty for just wanting to be a mom. Pressure from the sis doesn't help much either.

I don't really see the value in having artistic talents. As far as talents go, I think having it in the medical fields are much more contributing to this world. Which isn't necessarily right--everyone has different talents for a reason, but I'm not sure if I'd rather add to choices and quality of life, rather than contributing to the quality (and possibility) of health and existence, if that makes sense. Making pretty pictures doesn't really help anyone long-term. It just makes you say "got it" and walk on.

I put the trash bin at the curb this morning! It's probably the first time ever I've done that since moving here. Maybe second time. But doubtful.

I get really irritated if my roommate leaves a couple of things out, or leaves things in the fridge for exorbitant amounts of time, although I do the same (at least the former) but much worse.

I'm very particular about HOW people say my name--I'm not talking pronunciation, I'm talking inflection and tone. I hate the way Poncho says it. Like he knows a secret about me or something. It's icky. Don't tell him! I love the way the English say it. ALL of them. It's adorable. And they always say it so carefully the first time, like it's the first time they've EVER uttered the name. Like the 'r' has nothing to do with the first syllable.

I have COMPLETELY fainted on three separate occasions. I've come very close countless times. The most embarrassing though was when my best friend Amber Longhurst (now Brueseke) and I were sitting up on her bathroom counter, in I think the sixth grade, and she was desperately trying to put her contacts in. She was having a difficult time, and I was holding my breath as I watched her. So I basically forgot to breathe and completely passed out. Luckily her mom was standing behind us and caught me as I fell back. Here's the embarrassing part that I leave out when I tell this story to people. Apparently I snored as I fell back. *Blush* Out like a light.

Ouch. I just REALLY hurt my back lifting up a big box of xerox paper for a professor. My coworker's chair was sticking out enough that I couldn't lift it up all the way just yet, thereby stressing out my back as we both noticed and she pulled it back. Man alive.

One of the reasons why I don't like to cry is if I'm completely out and out bawling (which I think only Janay has seen in the past several years, at least friends-wise), I hyperventilate and I start to black out. A REALLY scary thing when you're driving!

Honestly, I don't care either way about the smell of most flowers. I think the great majority smell the same. There are, of course, a few exceptions.

Most of the things I love doing, I hate doing as well.

While I was looking up pictures for this blog, I came across some facts about Cary Elwes. Not only is his last name pronounced "el-wez" (I always thought it was el-wess) but he's not gay. Apparently he's happily married. Um... whoops.

I nearly just died of embarrassment. For the first time in my life, I forgot to put on a bra. Not really sure when I have the time to go home and put one on. And it's going to be a long day. I've been at work for an hour, and didn't notice until I had to walk to the mail room to drop something off. Luckily I'm wearing a sweater, but it's still a bit chilly. BLUSH! And I was so proud of myself for remembering everything. So of course, being Kari, I forgot a basic. Now if I had been an Annie...