Who The Fuck Are You?
Who are you and where did you come from?
Since I’ve gotten 23,547,691,205 questions asking who I REALLY am, I’ve decided I should start
pimping myself out responding to my masses. WHAT!? Yes, I have masses, what of it? So, I’ve thought “Hey, Grandma Juice, how do you tell these peeps ‘Who Are You” without blowing your secret ninja spy cover?”… (please ignore the fact that it’s taken me 1 whole month to answer myself… I’m a busy girl and there’s kids, work, school, grandpa, the nuthouse and all the ‘other voices’ in my head that needed answering first. I always put myself last, I am working on that) OH!! And that last weekend we spent in Vegas…. #winning !!!!
So… fuck you if you don’t like the format I’ve chosen to respond to all your questions with, but… I’m winging it here.
Ready? Got you pencils so you can take notes, there may be a test later… ??? GO! Who Are You?
I am a mom, wife, grandma first but not always in that order…
I wish I knew how to write better because I LOVE, LURV, HEART, the writing part of this blog gig!
My kids say I have an uncontrollable need to exaggerate but I am not convinced. Everything that comes out of my mouth happened EXACTLY the way I say. (well, someone living in my head believes it did anyways)
If ever I make it big time a la Charlie Sheen, I want Sandra Bullock to play me in the movie. She’s kinda my girl crush. (secretly, I strive to be on any one of The Real Housewives of… *insert fanfuckingtabulous town* and be the sane voice of reason character) We all have dreams, don’t shit on mine, that’s just rude! You asked, remember? Who are you?
I enjoy people watching and making up their life stories in my head.
My husband bought me a fucking badass car 2 years ago. It’s a very SMEXY Pontiac Firebird convertible. I’ve driven it 3 times and it’s sitting in the driveway collecting dust.
I fear: heights, death, losing the remote and getting old. (well, looking like I’m getting old)
I will not share my Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups.
Smelly people make me twitchy.
I would like to be a vegetarian but I can’t stop eating cheeseburgers. I don’t really like steak however.
I am dog person and I question the sanity of those who aren’t.
Inside I’m a neat freak but I’m too lazy to act on the impulses.
I look in people’s medicine cabinets. I judge you by the brand of toothpaste and toilet paper you buy.
Despite the ‘car wreck’ that crippled me in 1995, 2007 was the worst year of my life.
I say the word ‘FUCK’ a lot. I am wary of those who can’t.
I wish I had cute feet.
I never eat anything out of someone else’s dirty refrigerator. This embarrassed my mom when I was a kid.
I enjoy making people uncomfortable. I say things on purpose to make you feel awkward.
I have my first cavity. I’m 42 years old and afraid to let the dentist fix it. I do however like getting my teeth cleaned.
I know more drug dealers than people who attend church on a regular basis.
I have some control issues. (ok, a shit ton of control issues)
Sarah Palin makes me puke in my mouth.
I like animals better than people but will carry on a conversation with just about anyone.
If your clothes don’t match, I’ll make fun of you.
My compassion is bigger than I’d like to admit and you will never know because I pull of ‘jaded and cynical’ perfectly.
I love a good thunder and lightening show.
I’ve never watched a single episode of Jersey Shore, How I Met Your Mother or Grey’s Anatomy.
I like salty over sweet.
My goal before the end of summer: Move out of this dust bowl, dirt road town and back to the ‘burbs and buy a big girl camera.
I’m deciding if I should give up on the psych career and go back to making my line of bath & body products. (not to toot my own horn but… they were AWESOME and we made some mad $$ from my ‘little hobby’)
At least 2 of my old boyfriends are now openly gay. My super power is apparently making men switch teams.
There. That’s the answer to Who Are You Q&A with Grandma Juice.