La dee dah-ing.

This is just one of those posts.

Well… I just had the sudden urge to do a post. You ever get those urges? I need to write, I need to write! That’s how I feel. So, I write. I don’t know exactly what I am going to write about yet. Let me think…

Peanuts. I have a love-hate relationship with them. I found out I was allergic to them when I was about four or five. I've haven’t eaten peanut butter since. That doesn’t really matter because I never liked peanut butter in the first place. I used to eat salted peanuts, but now? Blech. No thanks. But then again, I love Reeses Buttercups. What can I say? They are delicious and addicting.

I can tell who is at the computer from another room. No, there is not a little peek hole looking into the office. I can tell by their typing. Both my parents learned to type on a typewriter. You have to bang on the keys to get any type of result from the typewriter it seems. My dad types like this: CLACK CLACK BANG CLACK BANG BANG CLACK. My mom types like this: Clack clack clack…..clack..clack clack….clack. Apparently she grew out of the banging. And another thing, I can also tell if my dad is eating chips in the living room from inside my room with my door closed. He is a pretty loud chomper.

Just a little peek into my past, I used to be a MAJOR tomboy. MAJOR, I’m telling ya. Everyday I would wear: sports pants, a t-shirt, tennis shoes with socks that hit an inch above my ankles, and my white CTR bracelet. I also never let my hair out of a ponytail. I had straight across bangs and they were always in my face. Now that I have established that I was a major tomboy, onto my point (which took me a minute to remember what I was going to talk about). I used to be VERY self conscious of my feet. That’s a weird thing to be self conscious about, right? Well I was. I think once I got into second or first grade, my family didn’t see my feet again until 7^th grade. I was so self conscious about them that I even wore socks into the baptismal font. Every time I would go swimming, my family would yell: HEY LOOK! IT’S MEGAN’S FEET! I just had to tell you about that.

When I went into 6^th grade, I decided that I needed to grow out of my boy clothes and start looking more girly. I got rid of almost every piece of boy clothing I had, got a new sparkly wardrobe and painted my room a bright yellow. I even had green and pink curtains. WORST THING I EVER DID. Not only did my room color annoy me and keep me from sleeping well, I also felt very uncomfortable in my new wardrobe. I’m not a big fan of sparkles or pink. Which is basically what all the clothes were. I also let myself be introduced to JEANS. I had never liked them. But, I decided to try them. BEST DECISION CONCERNING WARDROBE. I now love them and wear them all the time.

Well, long story short, I switched rooms, I got swoop bangs and layers, and I still had my new found girly awkwardness until about 8^th grade. I think just this year is when I decided that girly is not the path for me. Don’t get me wrong, I love to dress up on Sundays, but all throughout the summer, I haven’t worn one girly piece of clothing during the weekdays. I think simple things are more my style instead of shirts that have hearts and cherries on them. I also went back to straight across bangs. I find that I like them better and they are more me. WOO! I have discovered my fashion ways!

I have always wanted to learn the art of swordplay and archery. It’s been a dream of mine for ages. But for now I will just have to rely on the art of ducking. But will I ever get in a fight where it involves swords or bows and arrows? I doubt it, but you never know, the world is a strange place.

I also want to learn how to weave beads into things.

HOW ON EARTH did people way-back-when keep their hair so perfect? It must have taken hours! Just sayin’.

And that’s all I have to say for now.

Rock on.