I once, I always, I never

I once got stung in the butt while running in college. That cheeky bee had to fly up my sweatshirt to get there too! I called my mom because I had no idea what to do for a bee sting. She told me to put mud on it.

I always wash my face first thing in the shower. I read once that this means I am narcissistic. I don’t necessarily think that is true… I just don’t like to have mascara running into my eyes.

I never take my make-up off before bed. I know I should. I just don’t.

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I once was told that a friend of mine wouldn’t need me anymore once she had a husband and got married. At the time my friend and I laughed it off. I now think the other girl was right.

I always count stairs when I go up or down them. There are 16 outside my apartment. I count them everyday. I don’t expect them to magically change one day… I guess there is more to this OCD thing than I thought!

I never have traveled to Europe. It’s on my list of things to do before I’m 30… To be honest I’m not sure I’m going to make it.

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I once received a hand drawn Valentine from a boy in my class that was a picture of Rambo but said “Yo Tiffany! Be my Valentine!” I think he had his Sylvester Stallone movies confused. At the time I was mortified because he was NOT COOL. Now I wish I had been nicer to him because he was very sweet and I have often wondered what happened to him.

I always look for people from my old town in Texas on MySpace. Apparently the internet hasn’t quite made it out to Cibolo yet. Or they’ve all changed their names or moved away. Both are equally likely.

I never measure oil when it asks you to add 2 tsp to a skillet to sauté your veggies or whatnot. This seems like a waste of time to me and just one more utensil to clean. Likewise, I do not generally measure spices. Or salt and pepper. Season to taste is my motto.

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I once told a friend in Junior High School that I wanted to have enough sons to have my own starting line up for a football team. I have now come to my senses.

I always have liked boys better than girls. We’re petty y’all. And mean. I saw the movie – it’s all true.

I never know what to do with children. If they are young and people thrust them at me I am afraid I am going to drop them or they will vomit or make other messy baby wet spots on me. If they are older I am terrified they will speak to me and expect some sort of response.

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I once felt light headed from simply kissing a boy I liked.

I always day dreamed about kissing far more than I ever actually GOT kissed in High School. Sad but true. ;^D

I never fit in with a clique in school. I wasn’t sporty enough for the jocks, smart enough for the brains, pretty enough for the popular girls and so on and so on… I didn’t even really fit in with the group of friends I ended up spending most of my time with.

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I once had a guy who I thought was just a friend try to kiss me. It was awkward and we’ve never really spoken or hung out since then. I miss him sometimes and hear about him through the grapevine but he’s never tried to get in touch with me.

I always end up being “one of the guys”. Which seems like a cool thing to be… until you want to be the “girlfriend” of one of the guys and get laughed at. That hurts.

I never leave the house without sunscreen (at least for my face – hello wrinkles) and Chapstick. Never.

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I once fractured my finger while dusting. In two places.

I always think of a better thing to say after the person I am speaking to has walked away or hung up. I hate that!

I never feel like I spend enough time with my cat… Like I could be a better cat mommy somehow.

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I once did that whole prick your finger and become blood sisters with my best friend in grade school. Then I moved away and we lost touch… So much for being “bonded by blood”. I wonder where she is now?

I always peek at other people’s bookshelves when I’m at their houses to see what they are reading. It’s my own version of seeing what’s in the medicine cabinet I guess. You can tell a lot about a person by the type of books they read.

I never thought I’d go seven years without speaking to my father.

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I once got thrown from a horse because a bird flew under his belly.

I always pre-plan conversations with people in my car. Complete with alternate endings and multiple answers and scenarios based on their responses to questions either I or they might ask.

I never feel like I actually see the real me in the mirror.