I heart dancing, especially at gay clubs, where I don't get hit on.
I hate it when people wait to merge, when they have their own lane to pull into. Hello, read the sign.
I don't do telephone surveys, ever. Ever.
I hang up on telemarketers before they have a chance to speak.
I'm addicted to 90210 and all it's drama, and I often watch it with my mouth open.
I like chips. No. I LOVE chips. But not weird kinds.
I had a dream the other night that I was washing my kitchen floor, with bleach, and a scrubbie. Yes, even in dream land, I'm cleaning.
I heart P!nk, and all her feministic goodness.
I secretly judge people's parallel parking.
I will start to crave chocolate milk if I haven't had it in a long time. A long time being a few days.
I am getting antsy to set up my amazingly perfect Christmas idol so that I can sit on my couch and worship it's amazing perfection.
I was once told my Christmas tree looks like a Sears display tree, which was intended as a insult, but it was one of the best compliments I'd ever received.
I've grown to be picky of where I'll go out to eat, and feel like a bit of a snob.
Sometimes I doodle my name just like the symbol for the band nine inch nails complete with the square around the NIN and the backwards N, even though I don't like nine inch nails.
I've recently come to love writing angry songs, even when I'm not feeling angry, and I'm loving the freedom of not being in the writing box I put myself in anymore.
I'm sick of my hair to no end, again.