I aim to please folks. So when someone suggested I never say anything nice about myself, I decided to do a whole blog centered around my sheer awesomeness and the many, many facets of my life that make me special. And not helmet-wearing special. The other kind. The good kind.

(When did the word "special" and wearing a helmet becoming congruent with being mentally challenged? When I worked at Kennedy Krieger many moons ago, there was a cute little boy who had Hemophilia really bad and had to wear a helmet most days in order to play with his friends. I mean, sad - yes. But in the scheme of things, not really the end of the world. His mother, however, thought the helmet was the most horrible plight this kid could ever have in his life. She obsessed over it. She said (something like this - I'm ad libbing, I mean it's been like 10 years and I have the memory of a fruit fly with ADD) "I'd rather he just not play then look so stupid". Nice, huh? I'd rather risk a brain hemorrhage in my son or doom him to a life of coloring, napping and knitting sweaters, than deal with his head being covered by what others perceive as representing mental retardation. Give me a break.... I digress.

1. I'm an artist. Drawing is my preference, but I like photography too and I really am up for any aspect of art, except for printmaking - which for some reason I hated when I did the art thing in college. I'm not sure I'd enjoy fabric making either. I do wish I could sew though... so I could make my own leisure suits. I imagine something like this:

I'm not sure which one I like the most. And yes, I realize it's all men on the cover (I mean, questionable on that one in the back wearing the blue who seems overly affectionate with Mr. Open Shirt), but I could totally pull this off. I'm not much for the all-pattern ones, but the one in the front that looks like an apron/Home-Ec project would suit my fancy. He's so cool with his shades in the one hand and the other hand strategically placed in his pocket. He's probably reaching for his man card so he can throw it into the shredder.

2. I have double jointed fingers. I'm not sure how this will benefit me yet in life, but it makes for a cool party trick (for about 10 seconds or about an hour, depending on how much you've had to drink) - and one day, soon enough, I will need to either rescue something from a long drain pipe or get something out lodged far up in my children's noses. Either way, I feel like it's worth mentioning. I can also blow spit bubbles. Off my tongue. Where they fly into the air and usually land on some unsuspecting stranger's neck in front of me in line at the grocery store while I'm entertaining the boys. I think it's cool. Gross, yes. But cool.

3. I'm gonna totally have trouble coming up with stuff for this list ya know. Let's see. I'm tall. Everyone feels the need to comment on how tall I am every.single.day. Yes, I realize I'm tall. I realized it in the 3rd grade when I had to stand in the back row on picture day next to the kid with Marfan's syndrome and the 15-year-old who failed 9 times. You don't have to remind me that I'm tall. No, I don't play basketball. No, I don't wish I were shorter. And No, Nana - I won't get that can for you from the top shelf. What, now suddenly bc I'm tall, I've got to work harder than everyone else when I'm shopping? I'm gonna start asking short people for stuff from the bottom shelf to save my back. "OK, I'll get you the box of Creamed Wheat, pops - but you've got to load that bag of kitty litter into my cart for me". Thanks.

4. Man, I need to wrap this up.. I've got shit to do. Let's see: I'm a decent mom. I have good morals. I'm kind to strangers. I don't litter. I can drive a stick shift. While eating something. And texting*. I know a lot of movie quotes and will beat you in Scene-It with my eyes closed. Well, wait - they'd have to be open for some of it. But you get the drift. I'm not a horrible singer. I like to think I'm a good cook. Except for baked goods. I pushed two people out of my vagina. What? I did! I'm bilingual**. I can play heart and soul on the piano with my toes. I can also write with them... I have monkey feet! I'm funny. I'm cute. I'm polite. I'm totally sick of this list. Oh, wait - that was negative. Sorry. Back on track. I know my way around a computer. I can check the oil in my car. I can put together furniture. I'm compulsively neat. That might be a bad thing, depending on how you feel about my neatness. Let's see - what else... that actually might be it. I can't think of anything else.

Phew. And now that I've wasted an entire hour on my first day off in two weeks writing this blog, I hope you're satisfied. If not, you can comment below and I promise to send you fanciful prose*** via email that will leave you hankering to be a regular blog-follower. Or at the very least, I will forward you all of my spam.

Happy Friday, peeps! Friday + 103 degrees in Baltimore = laying naked around the house with the A/C unit writing blogs - er, I mean, eh. Forget it.

*** fanciful prose = dirty pictures. Not sexual dirty. Like actual "dirt".