From Haiti to Sock Puppets, Five Things You Probably Didn't Know About Me

Oh mr.poopie, you have forced me into an uncomfortable situation. How will I maintain my mystique if I’m telling the world about my various neurosis? However I am very susceptible to peer pressure so here I go…

1. My happiest time (obviously aside from being with loved ones and playing with a basket of puppies) is when I’m reading the newspaper and drinking coffee early in the morning. I have a love affair with breakfast, but add to that mix some coffee and a newspaper and I’m sold. And it has to be early, early enough that the air is still cold and it’s eerily quiet outside. I imagine then that the perfect day would be waking up to the smell of coffee only to find my family sitting at the breakfast table and a golden retriever puppy handing me the Globe and Mail, I would probably be euphoric.
2. I have a reoccurring nightmare about being stranded in Haiti. This seems kind of weird to me. I don’t know anyone from Haiti, I’ve never been to Haiti, but for some reason I’m terrified of it. In one particularly frightening dream a gang wielding machetes chased me back to my hotel. In my hotel room there were a bunch of little voodoo dolls and broken mirrors. That doesn’t sound all that scary, but I can assure you it was.
3. I have a magical shower. Seriously. I don’t mean magical in the Hogwart’s sense of the word, but magical in that I am able to think more clearly in the shower than anywhere else. All of my important life decisions have been made while showering. I attribute this to the complete lack of distractions and the delightful smell of my coconut body wash. I have written many a paper in my head while shampooing. I think I would benefit from getting some kind of waterproof whiteboard for inside the shower, I worry sometimes that I will forget my ideas before I’m dried off and near a pen.
4. Girls that are taller than me intimidate me (I promise this isn’t a dig at you guys, Katie and Kiki!). I am just used to walking beside girls closer to the five-foot mark. When I am walking with girls who are pushing 5’9 (this usually happens at work) I am noticeably uncomfortable. I don’t like having to look up at them; my neck muscles have fusing in a particular fashion after having looked down at people for most of my life and I prefer not to strain myself. I suppose I also dislike this because I have dedicated so much of myself to making immature (but hilarious) short jokes about my vertically challenged family and I really don’t like it being thrown back in my face.
5. I think I have briefly addressed this in the past, but I don’t think people understand the extent of the issue. I do not know how to talk to kids. I really don’t and this seems a bit odd because I used to be one and I vividly recall talking to my fellow eight year olds at the time. There are always kids on the plane and I usually feel obliged to say something to them. So I will say something like “How are you pal?” to which they flash me a look of pity and contempt and turn away. I have considered the possibility that I may have angered one of them, who has since spread the world to his child brethren. They probably have to take an oath to smite me and make me look completely inept at every opportunity. If anyone has any advice about how to make kids like me I would appreciate it. And please don’t suggest sock puppets and clicky pens, I’ve already tried that.

I hope you all feel that much closer to me now that you know five of my quirks (I suppose some of those could be classified as “personality flaws”, but I prefer to call them quirks). As my blogging community has pretty much come full-circle I pass the baton (which I’m sure is now quite soiled) to Jenne. Take her away!