I’m not a huge fan of having secrets. I actually enjoy disclosing information about my life. Possibly to a fault. I am an open book—blog, rather. To clarify, that doesn’t mean I don’t keep secrets others confide in me. I keep cats in bag and ships unsunk like nobody’s business. Most of the secrets I have, I keep to protect other people. That being said, I’ve come up with a list of a few I can share without embarrassing anyone but myself. And possibly my family.
I wear men’s deodorant. If anyone has walked the hallways at school and questioned the source of the distant fragrance “Old Spice FRESH: High Endurance,” that would probably be me. It works so much better than most of the women’s brands I’ve tried. At least my confession wasn’t that I didn’t wear deodorant.
Sometimes I put a bunch of undergarments on the blades of my fan and watch them fly off when I flip the switch. Have I confessed that I alleviate boredom in strange ways yet? Because I do.
I know every word to “White and Nerdy.” I’m actually pretty proud of that. But I’m confessing it anyway so more people can know.
I often go 1-2 weeks without shaving my legs. Screw social conventions, man. As long as I can’t see the hairs flowing in the wind, I don’t mind. If you’ve seen me walking around in 102 degree heat with a pair of jeans glued to my body with perspiration, now you know why.
I played with toys until 6th grade. I had a special corner in my room dedicated to my tiny plastic figures and their dramatic lives. Toward the end of that stage in my childhood, I had a collection of monkey-shaped erasers that “lived” my own personal soap opera.
I filled out a mock “Teacher of the Month” slip for a teacher I strongly disliked. It basically praised the instructor for reminding me of my incompetence in front of my peers and really fostering that 1890 one room school house environment of public humiliation for academic shortcomings. I turned that slip in to the office, too. No regrets.
I’ve never been drunk or high. Part of that is due to the fact that I’m paranoid about how I would behave in any sort of altered state. The other part is my morals and all that jazz. But yes, contrary to the surprisingly popular belief, I have never smoked marijuana.
I’ve eaten more Craisins in the past two weeks than most do in their entire lives. What do you get when you overly process sugar and cranberries? Perfection. Beauty. The god above all dried fruit. In other, probably unrelated news, I’ve gained 3 pounds.
I could count on one hand the number of friends I had at any one time until I entered high school. That’s probably part of the reason I interacted so much with monkey-shaped erasers.
I would post more if other people cared less, but a blog post probably isn’t the best platform to disclose most of this sort of information, and I don’t have time to get permission from everybody.