I spent the majority of my thirty-third year of existence somehow convinced I was thirty-four. I have no idea why. I asked Sam, who was born in a blizzard in rural Minnesota in February of 1984, how old she just turned amidst my absurd confusion. She sweetly replied, “Carlis, you are 33. Don’t worry. I thought I was 34 too. But now that I’m actually 34, I feel 35.” She calls me “Carlis”.
How does a person do that? In a weird way, I feel like I missed being 33, because I apparently forgot I was 33?! Anyway, as I welcome my thirty-fourth year of existence (for a second time, apparently?), here is some weird about me:
- I drank an entire mug of black coffee for the first time at 33.
- A rich shade of brown was my favorite color from roughly age 20-26.
- I put ice in my beer or wine, because I like that it makes it extra cold and I don’t care that it waters it down some. I’m aware that’s not how I’m supposed to drink it. But I’m certainly not going to impress posh people with my knowledge of beer and wine, so I don’t care.
- I’m afraid of standing on ice and being buried alive. Those things aren’t actually connected to each other in any other way than the fact that both terrify me. Well, I have actually been on ice before and it’s creepy. I’ve never been buried alive. (So that’s a win!) However, I think it’s safe to assume that would be bonkers-scary.
- I hate wearing socks that don’t go over my calves, because they feel like they are always about to fall down or slide into my shoes.
- Growing up, my bedroom was in an odd part of the house which meant the roof would make odd spooky noises if the weather was too windy. My kid-brain knew these were obviously mummies, vampires, and whitches living in the ceiling. My kid-brain also (very surprisingly for my kid-brain) didn’t worry too much–because I knew as long as I was nice and told them all good-night, they wouldn’t bother me.
- I can’t drink red wine because it gives me headaches
- One of my front teeth is fake.
- I love watching choreographed dance. I’m not a dancer, and certainly never have been. But those Step Up movies are totally a guilty pleasure.
- I can’t sleep with my sheets tucked in to the bottom of my bed.
- I don’t know how to take a bus as public transit, but I can use the tube/underground/subway/metro like nobody’s business.
I’m vegetarian because every time I ate pork, I couldn’t help but think about how pigs are smarter than dogs. And then I would think about how smart my dogs are, and how much personality they have–and I just couldn’t enjoy eating meat anymore because I couldn’t disconnect from imagining eating my dogs. I’m weird.
- I can’t sleep without wearing underwear because I have an irrational fear of bugs crawling up into my girly bits.
- I don’t know how to whistle-despite people trying to teach me, probably 400 times.
As a little kid, I really wanted to be a mermaid. (I blame Disney.)
- I’m voluntarily caring for plants for the first time in my life at the age of 33.
- I love to take ghost tours or haunted city walks when I’m traveling. But I’ve never had any spooky paranormal experiences.
- I’m pretty sure I’m slightly dyslexic? I have a tendency to transpose numbers a lot, and letters sometimes.
- I’m adamant about the importance of flossing. And hydration. And wearing helmets. And wearing seatbelts. I’m super nerdy.
- I hate the taste of cilantro.
- I hate the taste of black licorice.
Despite being a very tall and generally proportionate human, my feet are only a size 9/10. Which is super awesome, because I can share shoes with my normal-sized-feet-friends.
- I don’t own a TV, not in a pretentious way, I just didn’t take it when I left my husband.
- As a child, I genuinely thought there was a chance at some point in my life, I would stumble upon a secret garden, like in The Secret Garden. But as I grew up, I realized–those kids did a lot of gardening and landscaping, like a lot. Like, way more than I would ever want to do or continue to maintain. And there were probably creepy bugs. And spiders.
- I’m scared of heights. Oh yea, and spiders. But I think I’ve mentioned that one before.
- In high school I was voted Best Sense of Humor (for a girl, because of course the categories were gendered) two years in a row.
I learned how to downhill ski around the age of 5. I was decent enough, but haven’t skied since 2006. So, I’m probably impressively worse now. I assume there is a reason that the old adage is about riding a bike and skiing?
- I’ve worn glasses since the forth grade. My vision is the worst. My lenses also my my eyes look way too small for my head.
- I’m absurdly ticklish and I will likely injure you if you tickle me. It’s almost an automatic reflex, a defense mechanism-I flail and people get injured. I regret nothing. Well, unless I hurt someone a lot. But then I only regret it a little.
- I still love jumping in puddles. And I love when the sun peaks out when it’s raining.
- I am awesome at Memory or Spot the Difference games. But I am awful at crossword puzzles or Sudoku.
- I burn sage when I move into a new apartment. I don’t think it pleases spirits or levels energy or anything. I just like having a personal mindful ritual of making a space my own.
- I was attacked by a military working dog–and yes, I was following the rules at the time, because following the rules is apparently my jam. That dog was an asshole. Fact. I received 6 stitches on my jawline.
- I responded to my first kiss by saying, “That was…weird…” In all fairness, I was a freshman in high school, and I wasn’t expecting it, and I didn’t understand that whole tongues business. I promise, at 34, I have a better grasp of the concept.