Proof: Recently, someone called me quirky. Not to my face. It wasn't long before word of it made its way around to my face-- to which my face responded, "--whaaa? Oh...yeah." In the past, I had never thought of that word when I thought of myself, but in actuality, it makes total sense. Someone just needed to tell me. This realization made me wonder: have I always been quirky? Three seconds later, I knew. In those three seconds I thought about:
how, when I was seven, I peed in my wicker garbage can because my five year old sister suggested it (sorry about that, Ma!).
and how, in fourth grade I tried (with great success, I imagine) to convince my classmates I was an alien from the planet Longifra (...yep).
and how, when I was ten I ate my corn like such a maniac (i.e. not in standard "typewriter" fashion, like a normal human being) that my dad yelled at me (sidenote: my dad has probably yelled at me a grand total of FOUR times in my entire life-- this was one of those times. <--- is my awesome dad the source of my quirkiness? The man is a geyser (I'm talkin', Old Faithful) of quirk; it wouldn't surprise me).
and also how, bad puns and math puns are what I live for. And don't even get me started on bad math puns. Seriously. Don't.
and how I love the spins. Yep, the ones you get when you drink a bit more than you should have. They're like a roller coaster, except better-- you don't have to pay an admission fee.
and how my back-up back-up life plan is to start a towing company that exclusively tows tow trucks (I have a thing for sticking it to the man-- so sue me).
and also how, I'm an avid supporter of "-asaurus rex"-ing things (re: my about me. Also, re: many things I say on the daily).
and how I make friendship bracelets. Still. A lot.
and how I've been to pole vault camps. Three of them.
and how I'm not a fan of pillows. I appreciate when my head is at the same sea level as my body. I am, however, a huge fan of deltoids (yes, the muscle. And yes, this is at least the second blog post I've mentioned this in).
So, I'm a left-handed, meat-hating, deltoid-loving, female studying math. I still can't decide whether or not it's a good thing that I am finally self-aware about how much I ooze quirkiness. It's an easy out sometimes. Now, when I walk around in my underwear at home and my mom looks at me like I'm psychotic/yells at me, I say "what? I'm quirky." Q.E.D.
how, when I was seven, I peed in my wicker garbage can because my five year old sister suggested it (sorry about that, Ma!).
and how, in fourth grade I tried (with great success, I imagine) to convince my classmates I was an alien from the planet Longifra (...yep).
and how, when I was ten I ate my corn like such a maniac (i.e. not in standard "typewriter" fashion, like a normal human being) that my dad yelled at me (sidenote: my dad has probably yelled at me a grand total of FOUR times in my entire life-- this was one of those times. <--- is my awesome dad the source of my quirkiness? The man is a geyser (I'm talkin', Old Faithful) of quirk; it wouldn't surprise me).
and also how, bad puns and math puns are what I live for. And don't even get me started on bad math puns. Seriously. Don't.
and how I love the spins. Yep, the ones you get when you drink a bit more than you should have. They're like a roller coaster, except better-- you don't have to pay an admission fee.
and how my back-up back-up life plan is to start a towing company that exclusively tows tow trucks (I have a thing for sticking it to the man-- so sue me).
and also how, I'm an avid supporter of "-asaurus rex"-ing things (re: my about me. Also, re: many things I say on the daily).
and how I make friendship bracelets. Still. A lot.
and how I've been to pole vault camps. Three of them.
and how I'm not a fan of pillows. I appreciate when my head is at the same sea level as my body. I am, however, a huge fan of deltoids (yes, the muscle. And yes, this is at least the second blog post I've mentioned this in).
So, I'm a left-handed, meat-hating, deltoid-loving, female studying math. I still can't decide whether or not it's a good thing that I am finally self-aware about how much I ooze quirkiness. It's an easy out sometimes. Now, when I walk around in my underwear at home and my mom looks at me like I'm psychotic/yells at me, I say "what? I'm quirky." Q.E.D.
I'm a right-handed, meat-eating, deltoid-ambivalent, male studying mathematics. GET SOME. Spins.
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