getting to know me

I don't blog much about myself, so I thought I would for a change. I have a lot of quirky quirks [that annoy Kane] and random things that are on my mind. So here are some things you may (or may not) know about me! Here it goes...

1. If it weren't for bacon & cheeseburgers, I'd be a vegetarian. Seriously. I have a hard time eating meats. Much to everyone's dismay, I absolutely cannot eat chicken. At all. The thought of it makes me nauseous. Over the years, I've come to realize it is all completely a visual thing. So if I can tell what body part I'm eating, I stay away from it. Which basically means chicken is off limits. I also cannot do any seafood, whatsoever. The smell alone makes me gag. Believe me, I do not want to be difficult (or "picky" as my mom always calls me) I really do not. But as I said before, it is totally a visual & textual thing. Set a plate of slimy/wet foods in front of me, and the nausea sets in. When I was little, Terry [my brother] told me jelly came from jellyfish. And he also told me that spaghetti was actually worms. And even though I was old enough to realize that he was just teasing me, I still couldn't eat either for years. Thanks a lot Terry. Thanks a lot.

2. Until 5 days ago, I totally thought the [following] song went like this, "Jesus loves the little children, all of the children of the world. Red and Yellow, Black and White, they are precious in his sight, Jesus loves the little children of the world." It wasn't until I was helping Bethany in Mission Friends last Wednesday, that I was able to read the words. It's "Red, Brown, Yellow, Black and White." I'm not even joking when I say I always wondered why "brown" wasn't included. Now I know that I was greatly mistaken. That or whomever taught me the song intially was racist. ha! I'm just joking. I'm of brown persuasion, so I can say that.

3. Speaking of being "brown" that is one thing that always confused me growing up. My dad is white and my mom is hispanic. So that would make me of mixed race. But my mom never really taught us the hispanic culture, so I never really associated myself with my mexican heritage. So growing up two things really bothered me:

A. Other kids would always ask me, "what are you?" me thinking: "umm...a girl?? is my butch haircut that bad??" other kid: "are you spanish??" me: uh.. do you mean am I hispanic? other kid: "yeah, are you spanish?"

B. Two dreaded words for a mixed kid: Standarized Testing. Right around the 4th question down it reads: What is your race? oh crap. Am I suppose to put "white?" I mean, I am. But should I also circle "Mexican?" Oh wait, it says to fill in one circle. If I screw this up, I'm pretty sure I will fail the test. And fail my grade. And have to repeat. By this point, I start to get the sweats. So I quickly mark one or the other. I promise you from 3rd grade through sometime in high school (by then they allowed you to mark more than one race), I marked a different answer. It actually wasn't until I was filling out my application for UNCW that I realized that I could benefit from my mexican heritage. All colleges love diversity. Especially UNCW. And lets not forget the scholarships galore. So when I come to the question, "are you of mexican descent?" Absolutely!


4. I have a fake tooth. Well techniqually, its a porcelain veneer. About a year or so ago, I was swinging Carson and a metal bolt from the swing came back and smacked me in my mouth. I literally broke my front top tooth in half. I think the dentist did a pretty darn good job. You can't even tell. Well, I can because I can feel it with my tongue. The only problem with it is its not permanent. The dentist recommended I try the veneer until it falls off, try it again, and then get a permanent crown. So I live in fear everyday that it may just come off. I can't eat anything hard with it. The idea of it falling off freaks me out. But so far, so good.


5. When I was about two years old, I "fell" off a chair in my mom's sewing closet. (note: the details of my fall are up for debate. My brother was standing next to me when it happened. I'm pretty sure my fall was not an accident. Just saying...) Anyways, I fell and landed quite nicely on a large sewing pin. Right in my left butt cheek. So at the hospital, a veteran doctor came in, assessed the situation, and took my dad aside. "Sir, there is nothing we can do for your daughter without hurting her. We will just wait until the pin severs her spinal cord, and then we'll go in and get it out." Whoa. [Now lets remember this was back in the 80's. Things are not how they are today in the medical field.] Well lucky for me, a young doctor fresh out of med school heard about what was going on, and confidently told my parents, "I'm pretty sure I can get it out." And he did. Without any problems to my spinal cord, and without damaging my cervix (it had moved to my pelvis). So thank you, young, smart, and probably cocky doctor. The only permanent damage done is to my butt which has a rather large scar on it. Which I'm sure you all wanted to know.

So anyways, there it is. Those are the most interesting things I can think of about myself. Hope ya'll enjoyed!