Tuesday, January 6, 2015

there's a lot about me you don't know, mr. smarty man

Friends! I apologize. I've been a little MIA. I wish I had some cool story to explain my absence, like, something involving the ninja-princess-sharks that are the stuff of my kids' imaginative play lately, but alas, my only excuse is - Life. The other night DM said, "I haven't heard from Mackenzie Cheeseman in forever! I really want to know what she's been up to!" Now, I know if that guy registers my silence, I must really be neglecting you all. I have half a dozen partial posts going (and by partial, I mean, one sentence in a draft post waiting for me to motivate). It's not like it takes me a long time to write them. Once I get a bug up my a$$ about a certain subject, I sit down and bang that sh*t out in half an hour. But I'm just not quite ready to go there yet. I think my blog motivation went the way of my self control when it comes to eating things that are fattenings: it was barely there to begin with, but the holidays have completely derailed me. Seriously. Last night I said to DM, "I have eaten 47 of these cookies and I don't even like them. They sort of remind me of these cookies my grandma used to make, though. I think that's why I keep eating them." As if uncovering the deep-seated psychological motivation for my sport-eating will stop me.

In the meantime, I got thinking, we've been together a year and a half, and we still don't really know each other all that well. ("If you don't know me by now.... You will nevah nevah nevah know me, oooo-oooooh." :)) So. Inspired by another myspace/facebook survey long ago - fifty-ish things you probably don't know about me:

i have to plug my ears to pee in a public restroom.

i always wear two shirts (like cami/tank + actual shirt) in some misguided attempt to camouflage my muffin top.

my 4 year old son can whistle better than i can.

my 2 year old daughter can dance and sing better than i can.

i can't drive or eat with a jacket on, it makes me feel claustrophobic.

an old coworker once told me i did not look attractive with my hair up. it really stuck with me. so i almost always wear my hair down when i'm out and about. but i tie it back when i eat, and as soon as i get home to begin my night shift wrangling american-ninja-princess-shark-warriors.

i also feel 10x more attractive when i straighten my frizzy curly hair, and i have never been to court or an interview with my hair in its natural state. but now that i have a daughter with gorgeous curls, i want to make more of an effort to rock what god/darwin/dna gave me (ahem, right after this Brazilian blowout grows out).

on the subject of being a bad feminist/empowering female role model, i don't leave the house without mascara.


i rarely wear my wedding ring or any other jewelry at home. that and my pants are the first things to come off when i walk in the door. i can't sleep in jewelry (or pants) either, probably stemming from when i was little and my dad told me if i slept with a necklace on it would strangle me in my sleep.

i used to be a decent driver but as i get older i'm seriously becoming a menace on the roadways. like, if anyone in the tri-state area appears to even be thinking about merging into my lane, i swerve like i'm about to be run over by a semi.

i'm pretty strict with my kids about candy and junk food. i won't let them touch soda, and i'm even stingy with juice. meanwhile, i hate water, haven't drunk milk since 1988, and think nothing of subsisting on red bull, diet coke, and milk duds for a day.

i live in constant fear of being ordinary. which probably makes me very ordinary.

a fantastic song will give me goosebumps, no matter how many times i've heard it... e.g., the live version of amen omen by ben harper, les miz, miss saigon...

i'll take a book over television any day and twice on sunday.

if i could change one... or... three ... or... five things about me, i'd want green eyes, scathing wit (that i think of on the spot, not seven minutes too late), and mad skills on the dance floor. also to be an effortless cook. also to have an overactive metabolism. also ... eh, that'll do.

when i grow up, i want to be one of those women who can work out without looking sweaty and porcine afterwards.

i am like, a nap CHAMPION (or used to be, when naps were more than a pipe dream), but the WORST insomniac EVER at night.

i have a dogged, if irrational, fear of/distaste for the following: seaweed (seriously, one of my angriest moments at DM resulted from him chasing me with a giant stinky seaweed whip), birds in close proximity (but I weirdly love bird-themed jewelry?), outtie belly buttons, mariachis, hair that is not attached to a living thing , arial font, and buca di beppo

i love humanity, but i don’t really like people... if that makes sense?
(only people that don’t know me very well think i’m really nice.)

i don't fully trust people that don't like animals, their parents, music, the outdoors, travel, or anyone that doesn't eat bread or drink alcohol for anything other than legitimate medical reasons (but people that don’t like people, hey, they are A-okay ;))
(DM says I am a mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a contradiction... but maybe i’m just a hypocrite.)

i can't stand trendy philanthropy. that's probably really horrible, i mean, helping people is helping people, but hey, there it is. this one time, which i still feel supremely awful about, my boyfriend was all jazzed up about his contribution to Tibetan Freedom and i was like, "wow, you and all of Hollywood might just save the world one day." i know. i'm a terrible person. don't say i didn't warn you. needless to say, we broke up.

i feel like crying when i see a homeless person or a frail old person, especially if they have a dog, and *especially* if that dog is missing a leg. i am 3.5x as likely to give someone money if they have a dog.
- those FUCKING Sarah McLachlan/SPCA commercials will just put me out of commission. one came on while we were watching New Year's Rockin' Eve or whatever and I was like, TURN IT OFF, TURN IT OFF, AAAAAH, and DM was desperately scrambling to find the remote like he was that guy in the fuckin Hurt Locker trying to dismantle an IED before it blew his face off. alas, he was unable to find it in time, and i was DONE. DM: "Yay! Happy New Year!" Me: "What's so happy about it?!?! WAAAAAAAA."


if DM wasn't around to regulate, i would absolutely be a crazy dog lady.

i collect grandpas in my mind. and on pinterest. (seriously). once i was on a business trip and i let my colleague in on my game and he was like, "that guy can't be your grandpa, he's Asian." YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG, DUDE.

i don't think my toenails have been bare for more than a few hours since about 1994 (about the time that i realized that i was not, in fact, just a pretty boy).

i am trusting and naïve and cynical all at the same time.

my ex boyfriend and i once got in a giant fight because i said i believed in magic, and ghosts. (the issue arose after watching david blane, i believe... though this particular manifestation of magic was recently called into question by a video i saw on you tube).
 
i think sites like facebook, instagram, blogger, etc. are an exercise in vanity, which is probably why i am so obsessed with them. (i still don't really get The Twitter.)

i project a lot more confidence than i actually have.

sometimes (actually a lot of the time) i'm afraid of the dark, but when i sleep, it has to be pitch black.

i refer to the basement of my office parking garage as "the rape dungeon" which has resulted in several awkward encounters with coworkers.

my kind of man doesn't spend more money on his car or his clothes than i do, or ever darken the doorway of a tanning salon. (i don't know why i'm talking about "my kind of man" since I've only had one man for the last 12 years but, you know ;))
- tangent: this reminds me. DM doesn't know jack about fashion. (neither do i.) but he will watch project runway with me, almost willingly. the other day he was talking to his sister and said, "do you ever watch project runway? you know that guy that won season 8?..." she replied, "No, but, it's nice to know Mom has two daughters." Zing. ;)

i can’t stand when people get in my face about my decision to be a vegetarian, the validity of the 'vegetarian cause' (if there is such a thing, i am not a member), and the authenticity of my allegience thereto. WHY do you care? beat it. go eat some meat.

it bugs me when people get all snooty about things like art, music, wine, food, books, movies, cell phones, high definition televisions ... you like what you like. do you, and MYOB.

i have a strange obsession with trial sizes, supermarket beauty products, and office supplies... and i LOVE filling out forms.. especially if they have little boxes instead of lines.

i am supremely distrustful of birth control. despite having an IUD, i think i'm pregnant at least 4 times a year.

i am not afraid to die, unless it hurts.

i like to dance around to 80's hip-hop in my underwear.

i can't sleep when my legs are prickly.

i don't like to go places where people will notice, or care, that my purse or my shoes came from TJ Maxx.

i don't like restaurants where the food takes up less than 13% of the surface area of the plate.

i put garlic salt and hot sauce on basically everything i eat.

special skills:

spastically flinging open the door to the public restroom upon my exit and scaring the living shit out of whoever happens to be standing on the other side. (hopefully not literally).

making oreo pops and mini cupcakes. i can't vouch for their taste, but they look adorable.

planning perfect parties on pinterest. (seriously, i think i missed my calling: imaginary party planning. if i had unlimited time, money, and Xanax i could probably create them in real life, too).

keeping secrets. (actually, i'm not as good at this anymore because i usually end up telling DM and he sucks at secrets, so by the transitive properties of marriage and secret suckage, i also suck at secrets.)

taking an obscene amount of family photographs.

online scrapbooks.

wowing people with my spectacular inability to park a car front-in. i kid you not. prepare to be the opposite of impressed.

biting off more than i can chew.

making mountains out of molehills.

and of course my mom skills, detailed at greater length here (my first blog post ever!)

thanks for bearing with me (baring with me? or does that mean let's get nekked togethah? i still don't think we know each other well enough for that! ;))

regularly scheduled programming may or may not resume shortly. depends if i can locate my mojo amongst my fat pants and ravaged boxes of See's candy. until then, i hope your 2015 is off to a great start!




i need all of these from look human dot com

4 comments:

  1. OMG!! Laughing, then coughing, then can't breath then laughing! (Damn cold!) I loved the panda and the diet of red bull! Sorry I just posted my latest blog in Arial. My Bad.

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    Replies
    1. Dammit, Diane! Lol. Just kidding. I think mine sometimes defaults to Arial too. I am working on my fears. Exposure therapy ;)

      I'm with you on the laughing/coughing/asphyxiating. I think I've got the black lung! ;)

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