“…My kids are starting to notice I’m a little different from the other dads. “Why don’t you have a straight job like everyone else?” they asked me the other day. I told them this story:
In the forest, there was a crooked tree and a straight tree. Every day, the straight tree would say to the crooked tree, “Look at me…I’m tall, and I’m straight, and I’m handsome. Look at you…you’re all crooked and bent over. No one wants to look at you.” And they grew up in that forest together. And then one day the loggers came, and they saw the crooked tree and the straight tree, and they said, “Just cut the straight trees and leave the rest.” So the loggers turned all the straight trees into lumber and toothpicks and paper. And the crooked tree is still there, growing stronger and stranger every day…”
“…I am not a Sunday morning inside four walls with clean blood and organized drawers. I am the hurricane setting fire to the forests at night when no one else is alive or awake however you choose to see it and I live in my own flames sometimes burning too bright and too wild to make things last or handle myself or anyone else and so I run. run run run far and wide until my bones ache and lungs split and it feels good. Hear that people? It feels good because I am the slave and ruler of my own body and I wish to do with it exactly as Iplease…”
“…The world is filled with people who, no matter what you do,
no matter what you try, will simply not like you.
But the world is also filled with those who will love you fiercely.
The ones who love you they are Your People.
Don’t waste your finite time and heart trying to convince the people who aren’t your people that you have value. They will miss it completely. They won’t buy what you are selling. Don’t try to convince them to walk your path with you because you will only waste your time and your emotional good health.
You are not for them and they are not for you. You are not their cup of tea and they are not yours. Politely wave them along and you move away as well. Seek to share your path with those who recognise and appreciate your gifts, who you are.
Be who you are. You are not everyone’s cup of tea and that is OK…”
I was going to skip this step in the blogging challenge, because I had already done several “Random Facts” posts about myself and I was running out of random… But then I thought “Who am I kidding? I am completely random!” so I shouldn’t really have any issues with finding things about myself to write about. Maybe. Or I could be in for a really difficult and dull time. And you’re along for the ride, poor things. Nevertheless, here goes :
Twenty Facts About Me
I don’t like stinky cheeses. Except for Gorgonzola. It is a different, refined kind of stinky.
I have terrible balance. I can’t walk in a straight line. If I ever get pulled over by the police and asked to do that straight-line-walking thing, they will immediately arrest me for being inebriated.
I am a librarian but I don’t want to be.
I don’t get the whole Brad Pitt thing. I’m sure he’s a very nice man but I don’t know what all the fuss is about. I’m sure he wouldn’t think I was all that and a bag of chips either. Which is fair enough.
There are two TV shows I can watch over and over again and never get bored with – Seinfeld and MASH.
I have a ridiculously large collection of scarves. The only good thing about Winter is scarves.
I can’t make decisions.
People think I am very stoic, calm and sensible. I am, in reality, the complete opposite. Overly emotional, ridiculously anxiety-prone and pretty darn good at catastrophising.
I am a sleep-walker. Not as much these days but, when I was younger, I would wake up in weird places.
I really don’t like mole rats. They are the one creature I just can’t get behind. I’m sure they’re great, and I wouldn’t want them to be extinct or anything, but I find them creepy and gross. They’re like little hairless nightmares.
I have Gilbert’s Syndrome. This produces elevated levels of unconjugated bilirubin in my bloodstream. It doesn’t have any serious affects. It does, however, make me turn yellow if I am particularly stressed or unwell or fasting. One of my doctors found out by accident that I had it – he was blood testing for all sorts of things and this turned up.
I can’t stand it when people walk without lifting their feet. That whole dragging your feet thing – ugh! Pick your feet up, Schleppy!
When I was six, I fell in the playground and sliced my face open on some wood. I needed stitches and still have the scar. I remember walking back to class with blood pouring down my face, and sitting in the car on the way to the hospital with my brother cuddling me but not looking at me because he can’t stand blood.
I used to be in an Academic Extension Program in primary school. They thought I was smart. I wasn’t. I did get awarded Dux of the school when I graduated, but I think there was some sort of error. But I’m not giving it back now.
I didn’t learn to ride a bike until I was 12. I learnt to fall off one (repeatedly) shortly after that.
I can’t wear high heels. Just can’t. Don’t ask me to.
I’m a little bit allergic to wool.
I’m very allergic to the Kardashians. They bring me out in hives.
I am always cold.
Tea is my favourite thing to drink. There is no time that is not appropriate for tea, as far as I am concerned. It is a salve to all that ails me. Also, cookies generally accompany tea, and that’s never a bad thing.
So that’s it. I struggled a bit there…there’s not really many things to tell about me. I’d like to say I have been sky-diving or that I graduated from some prestigious University or that I am curing cancer but, mostly, I am pretty dull. But that’s that challenge over and done with now! Onwards and upwards!
“…The truth is that there are a lot of people like you, us, with strange hobbies or talents or gifts and we try to hide it because we’re afraid that it makes us seem weird or it will turn people off, but that’s a mistake. What makes me unique has brought every person I love into my life…”
“…Be different. Be original. Nobody will remember a specific flower in a garden filled with thousands of the same yellow flower, but they will remember the one that managed to change its colour to purple…”
— Suzy Kassem : Rise Up and Salute the Sun : The Writings of Suzy Kassem