It's ok, I admit it. But as long as I give props to the insanely creative individual whom I am copying....it's alright, right? I thought so. It doesn't make me lame or totally uncreative at all, does it? I didn't think so. So, first and foremost, let me tell you that if you actually want to laugh, go to Christine's blog. It's much better than mine. She's a blogging genius. I'm just....aspiring to be like her, I suppose.
Now, if you've read hers, you've got a sneak peak as to what my post will be like. For those of you who don't do as I direct, I'm ashamed of you and don't think you even deserve to read my blog today. But, since I'm unable to control if you do or don't gracious and loving and all about you people, I suppose you can go ahead.
CONFESSIONS of a DIET COKE-AHOLIC:
So here we go. Things about me that maybe no one knows. Random facts about myself that range as far back as my pre-teen days. Buckle up, it's going to be a scary trip.
I learned the Thriller dance for my prom. You know, in honor (false) of the King of Pop himself (which I also do not believe), I have a MJ related story. Or better yet, let's call him Jacko--becuase that's a creepy name, and he basically creeps (or, creeped) me out. Anyway, you know the movie 13 Going On 30? You might not, if you're not girly and awesome like me. Well, once I saw that movie I decided I definitely wanted to learn "Thriller". Now, it's a strenuous learning process, and I don't like to do things unless there is a reason behind it. And just "learning Thriller" for the purpose of being able to say "hey, I know that!" isn't very valuable for me (Especially since now we know there won't be a remake for the video anytime soon...). But, Prom, now that's a reason to learn to do something stupid. (Now, I'm not getting into the whole prom debate---should you go, should you not. I did, obviously, but might change my mind if given the chance. But that's not important for my story.) The important part of this is, I showed up at my prom clad in some fiesta looking dress ready to bug the DJ until he played Thriller for me. And that's exactly what I did. I bugged this man so much, and he finally agreed he'd play it at the end (you know, since most people leave before that). Well, guess what? As luck would have it, our prom gets cut short. So the guy has time for "one more song". I, of course, look at him pleadingly, but he just shakes his head and puts some Usher (eww) song on. Not to be defeated by the uber-lame Prom, I push my way through to the middle of the dancefloor and bust out a slow-mo version of Thriller. Because I can. Needless to say, it was awesome. I mean, were you thinking otherwise?
I used to own a shirt that had the (not literal) heads of the Hanson brothers on it. It's true. It was nappy and two sizes too big and ridiculous and hideous, but it didn't matter. I LOVED HANSON. But I'll take it a step further than that and say: I used to look like a Hanson brother. This is freakishly true. I had the blonde hair...was just a year or so younger than the youngest brother, Zac (yes I still know all of their names, songs, wives and childrens names...for which I should not receive judgment.), and did I mention had a bowl cut? Yeah. That's the big one. And by "big one" I mean embarrassing one. Sometimes I tell people I had a bowl cut and their minds think "short girl hair cut"...seeing as I am, in fact, a girl. But no. My hair was so short that 1: it was shaved in the back and 2: my would-later-be best guy friend, when he first met me, thought I was a boy. True life. To make matters worse, my first "real" boyfriend--I use the term loosely in that, he was my 'first love' and all that jazz, but we were young and stupid and precious and all of those things, anyway, we had the same hair cut up until like, idk, 5th grade. Perhaps we should have been siblings, not dating.
I've never actually eaten a cheeseburger. Ok, so, that's not entirely true. But don't jump to meaty conclusions just yet. When I was a freshman in COLLEGE, I had a small bit of one (though that was Lion's Pride and should hardly be counted). And then I had another small bite (and I mean small, more like nibble) this past year. But I've never eaten a whole one. Or more than two bites. Now don't think I'm a freak. I like hamburgers (sort of, on a good day) and I love cheese (real cheese, like, cheddar) but, I've just never seen the appeal of a cheeseburger. Mainly because the thought of cheese and ketchup and mustard disturbs me. yuck.
I work with a vampire. It's TRUE!!!!! Don't start judging me, thinking I've let the Twilight series go to my head. Ok, maybe that's actually true, but hear me out!! Let me describe to you my workplace. And by work, I mean the place of my unpaid summer internship. So I sit in these little 1/2 cubicle type desk things...they're scattered about over the entirety of the newsroom. I sit facing the police scanners and TV's, and the vampire sits right behind me, facing the opposite direction. However, I turn around periodically (because, I mean, he's got that timeless humor) and I realize there's just something different about him. Perhaps it's the incredibly pale skin. Or the natural bleach-blonde hair that's slicked back in a 1920's style. On top of all of these facts, somedays he comes in and wears his sunglasses. (You know, probably because he's thirsty.) AND, sometimes I'll be sitting at my desk and all of sudden he's right there, over my shoulder, and I didn't ever hear him coming. So I'm totally being truthful when I tell you, I work with a vampire.(But, sorry ladies, it's no Cullen-esque vamp.)
Alright, that's all the time I have today to confess things to you. Maybe I'll share more with you later, if Christine doesn't get mad at me. Again, let me shamelessly plug that I copied the confessional post from her. So go read hers. It's MUCH better.
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