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05 September 2008
CONFESS!→[More:] I had real trouble learning to drive. It took three teachers and about a year. And that's automatic, I failed manual after two honest tries.
I was afraid to learn to drive. I didn't learn until I was almost 19. I remember arguing that I could just take buses everywhere. Of course, once I learned and got over it, it was wonderful.
I have imaginary boyfriends. We go on dates and do all kinds of steamy stuff in my head. They also pine for me. You could cut the yearning with a knife.
I did confess once but I got drunk to do it (so suppose I'm inadvertantly confessing that I got drunk once). Now I just figure people will either figure out on their own or not, whatever.
Pfft...that's NOTHING, rainbaby. I actually crashed my car during my license test. The testing guy told me that I was the worst driver he had ever seen in all his years at the job and that he was whiteknuckled the whole time because he thought I was too stupid to know where the brakes were.
I didn't get my license until I was 21. And I only did it then because I needed ID.
rainbaby I have tried multiple times over the years to learn to drive stick. I fail mainly because everyone I've ever lived with has owned automatics and that includes the farm trucks (yeah, I know o_O) Well, except for my x when he was in college but he was such a horrifically bad teacher that I think we tried, like, once.
I confess to lusting after a new iPod, even though I have 2 already.
I haven't commented on MetaChat for more than 2 weeks, and my only posts in all of August were all OMG BUNNY related.
I think that tops bad driving, RickRolling AND stabbing. And I drank stynxno's milkshake and was not impressed. But using a straw that stretched from California to New York may have had some effect.
Aye, it took me four goes at age 25 to get my license (automatic). But, um, I only have one eye, so...y'know. That's my excuse for my general rubbishness.
It depends, planetboy. "We Gotta Get You a Woman" cheesy or "Bang on the Drum All Day" cheesy or "A Dream Goes On Forever" cheesy? (Rundgren is like a fully-stocked cheese shop of pop music)
When I was younger, the passion I felt growing in my chest when arguing I now know was angina. No matter how valid my facts and logic, I could not win a verbal argument because my opponent could out-emotion me. What I thought was the advantage of exuberance was actually ripping me to shreds on the inside. The damage to my son's life that I could have prevented had I been healthy is too far gone now to salvage, even if I had the money to hire the lawyers and other professionals I would need.
My neighbor was just on the East Coast, and since we took care of his cat, he brought back some peanuts and honey from Virginia, and the first thing that came to my mind was rainbaby.
So, apparently, imaginary internet acquaintances occupy a space in my mind. . .hmmmm. . .
When no one is around to see what i look like, my hair is often up in a clip, because it's an actual physical weight and palpable heat and i'm not looking at me, so i most probably look somewhere in the range of some spunky 80s telly tween to a Philip Tracy hat wearer most of the time.
Combined with my variable stage of invariable undress, it's a crime against all that is holy.
Circumstances willing, i'd be rocking it 24/7, but alas and alack--
I have a history of joining internet dating sites, but then never reading any of the profiles or going on any dates.
If I tried just a little bit I could be more attractive, but usually I don't try.
I have depression (big woop, that's not the confession), and sometimes I let my depression be the cover for simply being a lame-ass.
I am a crappy foster parent. But I excuse myself (far too easily, think Elizabeth Bennett's father) because the kids are better off with me than without me.