In Real Life I…

**Swear. How­ever, I almost never swear in writ­ing because appar­ently my abil­ity to real­ize every­thing doesn’t need an exple­tive works bet­ter on paper than in daily life. I also should offer the oblig­a­tory post­script here of: I don’t do it all the time, I can have con­ser­va­tions were it does not hap­pen. But if I am hon­est it does hap­pen. {How­ever, if you hear my kid say “Damn that shit!” I will still blame my hus­band because I can.}

**Can never eat just one potato chip. I am the unfor­tu­nate poster child for the motto “can’t eat just one” and my hips don’t lie, I can’t. If you see me hide yo chips, hide yo wife because I will also make her eat an exces­sive amount of chips as well.

**Gag at bad dia­pers, wip­ing other people’s butts and other dis­gust­ing bod­ily func­tions that kids do {like pick their noses and attempt to eat it}. Yes, I have 5 kids. Yes, I should be over this by now. I’m not. I don’t think any­one ever is. If they are, good for them. It ain’t me. Sorry.

**Have a PhD and watch real­ity t.v. shows, which have no true redemp­tive value in their pro­gram­ming. I have no good expla­na­tion for this except my repeated claim that it is data col­lec­tion for soci­o­log­i­cal research rooted in con­tent analy­sis on the social con­struc­tion of social iden­tity in a mod­ern media world. But that is lie. I just like it. A lot. I feel shame but I do it anyway.

**Rant. I talk loudly. And I talk with my hands. So much so that I am sure my Nana smiles down from Heaven at me proud I am her kin by my abil­ity to con­vey a vari­ety of dif­fer­ent emo­tions with a sin­gle gesture.

**Talk fast. Actu­ally, that should be: I talk a lot and I talk fast. I don’t even notice it until I see the look that crosses the other per­son face and see the eyes glaze over. Along with the look of sheer ter­ror that I might never stop. NEVER. I do stop. For exam­ple, I do not talk in my sleep.

**Believe con­spir­acy the­o­ries. Yes, I do. Not all of them but some. After all I’m a soci­ol­o­gist and let’s be real we think every­thing is a hid­den agenda to social­ize the human per­son into a pro­pa­ganda tool for the military-industrial com­plex. And I am not a machine!!!

**Am a con­tra­dic­tion because if you met me in pub­lic and I was ner­vous I might do none of the above. Instead, I might seem like I am uncom­fort­able, not say any­thing and smile. A lot. Which can lead strangers to think it is OK to tell me about their hol­i­days with their moth­ers or how their last baby was unplanned or other infor­ma­tion that might be a lit­tle too much for the gro­cery line.

Yep. That is part of who I am. Most of which doesn’t make it on here. Not sure why. I guess giant hand motions, while rant­ing about the Den­ver Air­port con­spir­acy, doesn’t trans­late well to blog­ging. Oh, who I am I kid­ding it always trans­lates well.

Kid­ding.

Mostly.

But if we meet in per­son don’t be afraid I promise I won’t cor­ner you and make you eat potato chips while lis­ten­ing to me talk. A lot.

Instead I might hide out, look awk­ward and smile excessively.

Or not.

Again I am a contradiction.

Tagged as: about me, get to know ya, life, me, navel-gazing at its best, random