I have a lot of different laughs. Old-man-dry-heaving laugh. Evil cackle. Hyena laugh. A snicker. A look-at-me-I'm-laughing-loudly laugh. A whimpering whisper of a laugh. A silent laugh. The list goes on...sometimes I don't laugh at all but just stare, judging.
I like books. bars. boys. All the Penns (sean, michael, chris & robin). I like all things old. One could say, I'm a nostalgic person.
I don't gossip. I don't read tabloids or blogs. I say things to people's faces. My friends nicknamed me Frank...as in, 'frankly...'
I have a stuffed white lion cub named Bear. He travels. He gets washed with my white laundry. When he looks uncomfortable on my bed, I have to fix him, I can't help it.
My closet is coordinated by color, category, sleeve & hem length, and occasion. My DVDs are alphabetized. My cupboards are by glass height. Some people call this OCD. I call it Virgo. My mom calls it autistic, but she thinks everyone's autistic.
I do things with clothes to make people look cooler than they are, but like themselves at the same time. I get paid for this.
I write. I wrote. Sometimes I still do. I thought it was all I would ever do.
I'm a workaholic. When I don't work, I feel...out of place.
But secretly, I just wanna have a bustling household with 6 kids and a happy husband, kids running up and down the stairs and dinner on the table at 8 every night.
For now, I have stairs.
God bless Vonnegut
