There's a blog I'm subscribed to called 'A Day in the Life of a would-be Bambi.' She seems pretty cool - check her out. A recent post she had was one of 'Honest Scrap'....
The Honest Scrap Award rules are as follows:
* “The Honest Scrap” award is not one to hold all to your self but it must be shared!
* The recipient has to tell 10 true things about themselves in their blog that no one else knows.
* The recipient has to pass along this prestigious award to 10 more bloggers.
* Those 10 bloggers all have to be notified they have been given this award.
* Those 10 bloggers should link back to the blog that awarded them.
Now, this is kind of right up my alley. Most days, you give me a topic and I might be able to run with it. Of course, it would help if I knew more than five people read my blog, so I'm not going to tag anyone or pass this on. :) So...here goes. Don't think less of me, or Mr. Realist, for that matter.
1. If you want to get technical, I've been engaged four times. Just because the bling isn't involved doesn't mean that it's any less of a proposal. Daniel, William, Bob, and Mr. Realist (and the question was asked three times in our relationship).
2. I went through a very rebellious phase my freshman year in college. Drinking loads, smoking stuff slightly less often, and skipping class left and right. I'd always been 'the good girl' - didn't drink in high school, never cut class, was always on the honor roll...and never got invited to parties (THAT was because my 'mom' was a state trooper. What they didn't realize was me going to a party and then calling her to tell her where I was would have been signing my own death warrant. My parentals theory was that 'if you get caught and go to jail, call us to let us know where you are; otherwise, you're sitting there all night). I was on my own, and didn't know how the hell to handle it.
3. Hand in hand with #2, I was a 'jersey chaser' and a 'loft bunny.' Yeah, I had a brief love affair with slutdom. I'm not proud of it, but it was who I was at the time.
4. I became a 'mom' at the age of twelve. Don't panic - no, I've never had children. Mom and Dickhead (the stepfather) divorced when I was twelve. Mom turned to the drink, and my younger sister was my responsibility - homework, food, baths, all of it. At one point, my mother told me to my face that her friends were more important. We've gotten past that, and January first, my mom will have not had a drink in two years.
5. I spent almost six years (not sequential) in therapy. Mostly because of a truly sucky home life with Mom and Dickhead, but also because of a play. 'Unspoken For Time' was the hardest play I'd ever done in my entire life. Mental concrete walls crumbled, and for the first time in my life, I understood what had happened was wrong and not my fault. I've seen one of the several just once since I left college. He smiled at me, and I was nauseated. But then I saw him for what he really is - disgusting and perverted, and not worth the dogshit under my shoe. It still comes back to haunt me now and then, but I embrace that anger and put her to work for me instead of against me.
6. I can belch on command. It's so fabulously gross - I love it!
7. I fall in love with fictional characters and people I will never meet, and yet I don't know if I would last a day without the love of Mr. Realist. He keeps me grounded when I'm off on Cloud 394.
8. I get stage fright AFTER I've walked out of sight of the audience, and have also played male roles.
9. Every single one of my characters in the stories I'm writing (fanfiction does not count) has a part of me or is based off of someone I know and love.
10. There are days when I'd really love to wear makeup (without sweating it off like an overworked nag), but I guess since I don't wear it enough or how to wear some of it, I have the feeling I come off looking like an overworked tranny, making one last show of the evening. And what the hell is with a 31-year old having effing acne?!
Well, there's my ten - five that made me think about actually writing it down, and five that miscellaneously popped into my head. OH, and if you can guess where the title came from, you get to be Queen (or King, whichever you prefer) For A Day!
Be safe out there, all of you.
Mrs. Dreamer
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