Because I was feeling self-centred today...

... I present to you some random facts about me.

I have an issue with turning down free food. I feel as though I am obliged to eat it by virtue of its lack of cost to me. I also try to pretend that this lack of cost overrides its caloric value, hence the reason I would never chow down on mini-pepperonis in my regular life, but will eat an entire bag when placed on a plate in front of me with toothpicks. This also that while I only drink one cup of coffee a day when I have to buy it, I always have a cup on the go in my workplace with its free coffee.

When I was in high school, I was known for my ever-changing hair colour- bleached blonde, jet black, orange, fire engine red. People often don't recognize me anymore when I return home with my real hair colour-- boring old dark brown. Even though I haven't coloured my hair in years, I still feel an urge whenever I walk by the cheap hair dye in the drug store. I liked being a fake red head.

I may one day murder a person for the most banal of offences. I am the type to forgive tremendous interpersonal slights, but remain irritated about the smallest rude acts. I blame it on growing up in a small town, where someone would chase you for five blocks to return the dollar that you dropped. I am affected at way too deep a level by the incourtesies of the city-- people slamming the door in your face, almost hitting you in their car, not giving up their seats for elderly women, walking in to you. A few days ago, a man in the train station ran head on into me, full tilt (and I'm a pretty small lady), then dashed off without even stopping to check on me or apologize. Fifteen minutes later, I arrived home, and the Duke asked me how I was doing. I said "I'm going to start killing bitches." Oddly enough, I can still be at the same party as people who have betrayed me in far more substantial manner, like the girl who told my boyfriend how much sex they would have had had they ever dated... I need to start getting my temper's priorities straight.

I can usually tell when something I write is going to get little response within the first hour after I post it. I then have to sit on my hands for the next several hours after that to make sure I do not impulsively delete it, deeming it no good because it isn't eliciting a response. This is the danger of having a brief stint of comment popularity. When no one read me, I judged my writing on its own merits. I'm working on getting back to that.

I sleep talk like a mofo. Usually, it is indiscriminant mumbles. However, there have been occasions when my unconscious has betrayed me. For instance, after a party, I was sharing a bed with a friend. Unknown to that friend, I had a mad crush on her ex-boyfriend. Well... at least it was unknown to her until I called out his name in my sleep.

I have seen 49 of the artists on my iPod in concert, the majority of them in the past three years. I am a bit of a concert whore. As cliched as it may be, Radiohead still stands out as the ultimate-- even though I was in the midst of a torrential downfall as I sang along to Karma Police.

My arachniphobia is totally illogical. I know it is not out of the ordinary to be afraid of spiders, but I have no problem at all with most bugs. In fact, once I was checking out this weird bug with a friend, and it was only when my face was inches away that I noticed its extra pair of legs and started to panic.

I know all the lyrics to Ain't No Fun by Snoop Dogg and co, aka. the foulest song on the planet. I'm not even comfortable quoting it here. If you are lucky enough to get me drunk, I will most likely rap it to you. It is one hell of a show.

When I was 12, all my friend were drooling over Eddie Furlong and Jonathan Brandis, while I had a crush on Charlie Sheen. Even at that age, I knew this was wrong, so I told no one. Now he creeps the hell out of me.

For a brief time this year, I was the #5 ranked contestant, and one point away from 1st place, in the CBC Hockey Pool, which has over 50 thousand contesants. I figure this scores me bragging rights for life.

I make the Duke feel my abs almost every day after I work out. I pretend he is impressed each time, but, really, I think it bores him.

I could survive off dill pickles, salt water taffy, whipped cream and cheese if I had the choice. I would probably not want to make the Duke feel my abs if I ever actually did this, though.

I get really uncomfortable when people fall asleep on public transit beside me. I also feel strangely vulnerable falling asleep in public places, like on airplanes. The idea of strangers watching me sleep is really bothersome.

I was a vegetarian from around the age of 10 through 20. I drove meat eaters crazy when they tried to feed me, as I was a vegetarian who despised multiple vegetable, including onions, peppers, mushrooms, olives, broccoli and cauliflower. I even went through a brief period where I disliked lettuce. I know that makes no sense.

I don't have a birthmark. My mom claims that my dimple, located near the top of my left cheek, is my birthmark. This dimple also guarantees that for the entirety of my life the primary adjective to describe me is "cute".