Dirty Little Secrets

O.k., so they're not really dirty, but here are some things about me; some odd, some not. I'm telling you these things because I'm totally bored, it's far too early to go to bed, and I don't have anything else interesting to say.

1. My fingers are always typing. Whether it's what I'm thinking, words I see, or what people are saying, my fingers are always moving. I can't get them to stop. I have to concentrate really hard to not move my fingers when I'm in situations that involve people looking at my hands or if I'm holding hands with someone. If I'm not thinking about anything in particular, I type "Brighton Plaza" over and over again because I used to live across the street from yup, you guessed it-Brighton Plaza. Lorri and I would sit outside and I would stare at the sign and type the words over and over again. I'm sure other people do it with piano keys or things like that. Or maybe not. Maybe I'm just weird like that.

2. I am all about driving over the speed limit. Unintelligible grumblings can frequently be heard from my direction when I get stuck behind someone going the speed limit or within fiveish above. Seven to ten above is perfection. Nothing pisses me off more, however, than people speeding through a school zone. DO YOU NOT SEE THE CHILDREN????? This is one of the few . . . well, o.k., maybe not few, but this is one of the times in life where I wish I could pull people over and taser them. Then, while they're writhing on the ground, maybe kick 'em a few times. 'Cause seriously-the children!

3. I loathe public restrooms. I will do everything in my power to avoid using them. I should add though, that when I say public, I pretty much mean any bathroom other than my own. I also hate other people using my bathroom. If someone else has used my bathroom, even if they've only peed, I can't go in there for at least half an hour. The sanctity has been violated.

4. I think my washer and dryer are conspiring against me. I swear my shirts are all fine when they go in the wash, but when they come out of the dryer, they all mysteriously have spots on them. It's a good thing I wear a hoodie every day to cover up the stains. I don't know what I'm going to do when I go back to school and don't have the excuse of a cold office.

5. It's cute for a four year-old to think she's a Princess. Not so much when you're twenty-four. To every single one of the Kardashians-you are not a Princess, you are not special, and you are not entitled to anything more than anyone else out there. Same goes for you, Paris. In fact, same goes for pretty much everyone. Rules are there for a reason, and no one is above them (well, except for the whole ten above the speed limit thing). By the same token, no one out there is undeserving or less than simply because of who they are. I'm tired of getting email forwards about people not speaking English (notice I am staying away from the illegal immigrant debate). If your biggest concern in life is that the person who you deal with for 60 seconds at the drive-up window is hard to understand, I think you're doing alright. I'm also tired of the gay jokes, and the fat jokes, and the sexually explicit jokes, and jokes about Jewing people, and the list goes on and on and on. Am I the only one who is tired of all the negativity? I know, I know, this after I talk about tasering people and I tell the Kardashians they're not special. Seriously, though-next time you send an email forward, or tell a joke, or think you deserve something more than someone else, just think about it first. Alright, I am now stepping down off my soap box.