1. My left eye looks like it’s squinting. That’s because it’s legally blind and when I’m tired it makes me look like a serial killer.
2. When my hair gets long it becomes an awkward-looking white-man-fro. (Last night my wife looked at me and was like “Should I call locks of love?” This was her subtle way of saying “Let me cut your hair or I’ll shear you in your sleep.”)
4. The thing affixed to the counter there in the picture? That’s a child seat. Because I have three beautiful little girls. Anna, Viva, and Tessa. One them is Satan. I mean that in the most flattering way possible.
5. I’m trying to look attractive to combat Wife’s celebrity crush.
6. Here’s a post about sex.
Other important facts:
–I have a degree in therapy. This does not mean that if I ask you a question I am psychoanalyzing you. I had you figured out the second we met.
–I own a male bird. He is the only other male in my house. It’s lonely for us sometimes.
— Yes, I was in the Gifted and Talented program in grade school and yes, I did get kicked out when my teacher called me the “laziest student she’d ever met.”
–I got into it again in junior high and this time didn’t flunk out. I view this as a major triumph. Because nothing says “destined for greatness” more than being in the top 30% of the population of a junior high located in one of the poorest suburbs of Salt Lake City, Utah. (Kearns, if you care.)
–Yes, I am Mormon. No, I don’t swear (usually). Yes, I plan to have 400 children. Yes, I drive a mini-van. No I will not marry you in order to form the Reality TV version of Big Love, and that’s mainly because mainstream Mormons haven’t practiced polygamy since the 1800’s . But seriously, thanks for asking. I’m flattered.
–The first six months of this blog were me writing what I thought were very serious expository posts about having the inattentive subtype of ADHD but were actually me conducting therapy on myself without realizing it. (Feel free to read February to September of 2010 at your own risk, but I’m warning you they are serious as a heart attack and very melodramatic and may make you feel bad there’s no way to donate to a needy African child from this website.) These posts finally culminated in me growing a pair and trying Ritalin, and now I feel much better.
–Now this blog is different. There are really no words for what’s happening up in this joint. Well, I guess I can try. Let’s go with an image: an over-caffeinated monkey riding a unicycle while wearing a blue tuxedo and wielding a flame thrower and occasionally shouting really loudly in fluent Chinese?
There. I have the feeling you totally get it now.
I have no idea if I’ll leave this up.