Monday, July 24, 2006

Ok I have a confession. A deep dark confession.

I feel like after the first few months of blogging I have revealed all the interesting thoughts, desires, experiences (I would feel comfortable sharing with an anonymous reader).

I've told you, gentle reader, of my:
parallel life with Norman Rockwell paintings,
my disdain for Telemundo,
emulation of Florence King--a southern humorist and misanthrope,
First experience with the sea,
fondness of quoting obscure Whitman,
my dreams in which I lead a field of cheerleaders to South Pacific's "gonna wash that man right otta my hair"

But now all I have to talk about is how I spend 65+ a week at work, run to the gym or FAB, and then climb into bed so I can wake up and do the same thing the next day. Starting at 6:00AM.

If there’s anything more pathetic than a uninteresting person—it’s a uninteresting person trying hard to be witty or interesting. “I’m quirky. Like me!” (pleading) “Really—I’m quirky and interesting.”

I mean, I wear little nerd glasses, I watch several Rag-tag films a month, I read Trends in Genetics and practice bel canto arias in my free time. Why do I feel so bland?

Think Mildred from Of Human Bondage.

So, here it is: the one shred of a tidbit of something about me no one else knows:

Each week when I read postsecret, I try to pick out which ones might apply to me. I think of it as a horoscope of sorts. This week’s checklist:


But the one that fits me best is:

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Garet said...

Ed. You're not boring. And if there is anyone to whom the monicker "quirky" applies, it must be you. In fact, "quirky" falls short.

Ed Grow said...


If you haven't noticed, quirky is a my book anyway. Maybe I'm zany. Isn't that what you call a single woman with several cats that has a Phyllis Diller voice? Zany. Oh

"the" Mrs. Astor said...

I can think of nothing better to weed out that which we disdain than The Bird Flu.

It's not a chicken in every pot anymore which matters, it's a chicken in every lung.

You and Craiger have an open invitation to our well-equipped bunker (and, it's not above ground).

Ms Bees Knees said...

"... a chicken in every lung." hahah! i love me some "the"...

you are not so much zany as you are more potty, bofo or farcical. *puts down thesaurus, adjusts glasses*