Thursday, July 21, 2005

Things I ain't...

I am not a fast runner, or a particulary competitive person.
I am not easily unnerved or quick to anger.
I am not a fighter.
I am not in dire need of money, fame, glory, love.
I am not intrigued by strangers (tall, dark, or handsome).
I am not hip. I never know the next, biggest, greatest and I don't really care.
I am not a good dancer; I am not comfortable enough in my own skin.
I am not easily affected by sad, depressing, unfortunate stories, nor do I cry often
(however, thanks to a hyper-sensitive gag reflex, I vomit often).
I am not (as I have said before) do all.
I am not happy most of the time that I am awake, I am not happy about this.
I am not good at remembering things.
...wait, what was I saying?
I am not a bad person to have on your side.
I am not an unloyal, selfish friend.
I am not a person who turns their back or can walk away.
I am not always capable of saying the right thing.
I am not always in control of my tongue--to which, sadly there is no filter for the information being sent from my brain.
I am not a novice at giving mea culpas.
I am not vain, except when it comes to reveling in my beauty.
I am not very good at setting boundaries and/or protecting my own interests.
I am not street smart.
I am not like most people. I don't like most people.
I am not as quick to heal from words as I am from sticks and stones.
I am not open-minded when I am the only one in the room.
I am not maternal, but I am not cold.
I am not as good at speaking French when I am force to do so out loud.
I am not gracious in receiving compliments. I am not ugly.
I am not poetic or sentimal or romantic. But, I am not easy.
I am not good at math.
I am not good at punctuation (the comma splice being my arch nemesis).
I am not convinced this posting is worth the effort it requires.
I am not going to sit at my laptop any longer; I am hungry.


Blogger Serena said...

*travel tip: police officers (and I am pretty sure this goes for all police officers-- in every country), don't like to be pooed on by pigeons. They have to wear that uniform all day, and when it's humid and it takes a long time to dry before they can flake the poo off, police officers can be down right unpleasant. If you see a police officer splattered with poo, keep walking. Chances are: you'll find another one shortly who will be much more helpful.

5:19 PM  

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