This is actually something I've gotten in trouble for quite a few times. There are just those certain books that pull you in, and you can't put them down. *coughThe Unwandedscough*
There is a small bookstore that I love going to called Homeschool Potpourri. It's a maze of narrow walkways and stacks of books falling from unorganized and overflowing shelves. It is the best for playing hide-and-go-seek or just spending a rainy afternoon in. They have a corner towards the back full of wonderfully old books. I've found one from 1907 that was falling apart at the seams, but it was so pretty. I'll just stand back there stroking the soft covers and smelling the musty pages. They're beautiful.
There is no flavor more sweet, refreshing, and wonderful than mint chocolate chip. It's been my favorite for as long as I can remember, and I don't know if that will ever change. It is the best flavor. Ever. End of story.
I am a teenager. I am mature. I am responsible, and there is no way that I would be childish enough as to play with an office chair as a toy. OH! IT SPINS!!
I get worked up over something then I get even more worked up that I got worked up then I start to hate myself for getting worked up over the fact that I got worked up and...you get the idea.
I am not sarcastic one bit. Nope, totally not what I'm like. ;)
This is the story of my life. I get attached to people quite easily, and as soon as I do, all I want is to talk with them, but then there is that little voice in my head that says, "You can't do that. That's clingy and creepy." I end up over analyzing every little thing I say, and it's a mess.
One of the best things about being home alone is that I can turn up the music however loud I want, and have my own little rock concert, except mostly a Broadway and Disney rock concert with a dash of Fall Out Boy and Panic! at the Disco.
This is it. This is exactly what happens. I happen to have the voice of a dying seal, so I usually just end up lip-syncing.
I am the most awkward talker ever. I end up speaking mostly in sentence fragments and frustrated sighs as I scramble for words. If I could just write down everything, that'd be great.
When I was younger, I had so many imaginary friends, most of them being intelligent animals.
Let's see, I remember Charlotte was my imaginary friend for the LONGEST time. She was a cougar who was essentially my bodyguard. She and I did everything together.
Another was Guacem. He was a raccoon who was a soldier. He later died in battle, and I decorated his little bark and log grave every Sunday with flowers that I had picked.
Chip was a chipmunk (so imaginative, I know). He too was a soldier.
Then I got older and my imaginary friends became characters that I wrote about. I consider my characters imaginary friends these days.
There you have it, ten facts about me that you never asked for. :)