8 Joining the Party: If You Really Knew Me...

This was in the Atomium in Brussels (and yeah, I owe a post on that).  I liked the bench, so Paul took this picture. He took a few, actually, and all include this boy... and me looking annoyed.

Jenni did this, then Lindsay, so clearly this is the new big thing, right??
Edit: turns out Megan and Lauren posted theirs today, too!

 I've punctuated the words with some "outtakes" of me.  Hopefully you enjoy.

If you really knew me....

You'd know I will do practically anything for someone I care for, and will forgive them to the moon and back. If I don't like someone? I'll write them off for one little thing, with little chance for change.

There's a quote that describes this perfectly, and my high school best friend and I had it in the yearbook under our "friend" picture:

"If you don't like someone, the way he holds his spoon will make you furious; if you do like him, he can turn his plate over in your lap and you won't mind."   Irving Becker

I have (arguably) three tattoos right now- and specific plans for two more in the very near future. And in-the-works plans for at least two more.

I absolutely love having friends over and hosting get-togethers, but the cleaning beforehand stresses me out and my inner hermit has a panic attack.  "Whatever" friends- the kind that will laugh if you answer the door in your house robe at 12N, have fur-floofs in the corners that could have their own collars, and won't get annoyed when Max dive-bombs them on the couch for scratches- are the best, but hard to find and develop when you move a lot.

I respond to most stories about people's human kids with "Sloan did that, too!" or "When Max was a puppy, he..." Yep. I'm that person.

Sloan often offers the "kind of help we all can do without."  Also, if you get that reference, our friendship is meant to be.

I am non-competitive to the point that Paul refuses to play games with me. Apparently it's no fun for him if I have a good time losing. I blame this on being the youngest of four... relatedly, if there is a third person getting in our car, I instinctively sit in the back seat.

My oldest sister calls me by the world's worst pet name. I hate it. But I still whip-lash respond to it. (argh)

and no, you're not finding out what it is. I'd post nekkid pics online before I'd post that info.

I love finding things that are perfect for people, or remind me of them- and I wish I was a gazillionaire so I could buy the item(s) for them.

I'm 100% game for being mocked good-naturedly, provided two things: it's funny (don't waste my time or the great material I've given you), and I know and like you. If I don't know you and you join in- you're dead to me.

Even if I was stylish, this is why there are no outfit posts. Paul HATES taking pictures of me like that.  Here I just wanted him to document the fact that I was in 4" heels, and he took three pictures- all between me looking decent. This is when I was telling him I wasn't posing like Wonder Woman. argh.

I cross my toes. (Second toes (the longest) over my big toes.)

I have a vocabulary I wouldn't dare use around my mother. I also have the gutter-mind of a 14-year-old boy... and often giggle to the point I have to explain slang or euphemisms to my mother. (MILF was the latest one... awkward!)

Relatedly, there are words I don't like used around me. I've gotten better about saying something as the years have gone on, and I try to explain respectfully why I find those words cruel and offensive. At the very least, I ask that friends not use them around me- and I do my absolute best to not use words that offend friends (hence my sailor mouth's off switch).

I don't believe in love at first sight, I don't believe in "meant to be", I don't believe in "happily ever after".  I take great issue with pop-culture and media's unrealistic views of  'love'.  I believe in a good dose of lust and a whole lot of hard-freakin'-work. 

Paul contributed this one: I make sex-noises in completely non-sexual situations, and unintentionally. Such as when moving furniture. Or opening a tough jar.

This was during our move last year. Paul refused to ask any of his friends to help us and we're too cheap to pay anyone for a 7-mile move, so we did it all ourselves. I told Paul this picture is my insurance, for any potential future court proceedings between us.

I am completely unable to speak intelligibly when I'm half-asleep. I will try, and I can hear myself not making words, but I can't stop it, fix it, or do anything but try (and fail) again. Paul thinks it's the funniest thing ever, and has threatened to record it on multiple occasions.

While I'm aware of (almost) all of my 'issues' and faults, I'm content to ignore them and live with them.  They're part of me, right??

I have very strong opinions, but I usually like to know as much as possible about the opposing argument, to the point that I'll play devil's advocate if Paul or another friend will engage with me.

I name the things I depend on: my cameras, my cars, my computers. And I refer to them by name. To the point that, before I was with Paul, I was asked two different times if my boyfriend was "Jack".  No- that's my Jeep.

I frequently make up words, or adapt real words into other parts of speech, and I have a hard time not typing that on the internet- particularly to friends on FB. I try not to, though, because I really don't want someone I don't know to read it and think I'm a moron.

Paul was taking a picture of me with my Belgian beer. Only it came out as a mug shot. His smile/shutter timing is off...

So then I tried to take my own picture.  And things got ridiculous.

This was after a 6.5% beer... and a 4%. I'm a bit of a lightweight.

Have you done a "If you really knew me" post? Link to it in the comments!