Full disclosure - I suck at intro posts. Well, I really, really hate writing them which is pretty much the same thing. So, prepare to be wowed by my incredible lack of finesse and my cheerful honesty about uncomfortable subjects. Let's see if I can come up with a few descriptors.
Call me whatever you want. I'm seeing how the anonymous thing goes. For as long as I can get away with it, my name remains a secret (like whether or not Joan Rivers still retains any of her original parts... ugh sorry, that was weak - I should have stretched first).
I'm a little Pisces shut-in who's been medicated to the eyeballs for the past few months on account of my being a basket case. I've yet to conclude whose method is more effective - mine or the doctors. Mine was certainly more fun (if a little hard on my liver) but now I'm messing with my brain chemistry under the guise of medical opinion. It's a rollercoaster of inspiration and all out panic.
I reside with my cat whose name lives in infamy for its length, unlike his tail which is known for its lack thereof. I'm a speed demon on the roads but I'm fully prepared to shoot out the tyres of anyone gunning it down our quiet street, after my kitten was hit and left on the road to die. Luckily for me, because he's my stand-in child while I'm too young for kids but clucky as fuck, he dragged himself home for us to race him frantically to the vet where he spent the next few months recovering.
He's fine now, if a bit neurotic.
I'm totally uncertain about almost everything but manage to be extremely opinionated, nonetheless. The only time this doesn't seem to backfire is when I'm giving people hell for leaning too far in one direction (usually the scared or hopeless). Ironic that someone who slides in and out of depression like a.... okay, I'm going to try and leave dirty conversational similes out of the first post. But it's definitely interesting that what gets me fired up the most is other people giving up. My extremely indirect way of looking out for myself, I suppose.
I can do cartwheels wearing handcuffs. I'm terrified of being in the water around submerged objects. I have an encyclopaedic knowledge of tv shows and my dvd collection oscillates between being organised alphabetically or by colour. I sang nicely as a child but now I'm tone deaf, which makes me want to cry. If you take a flash photograph of me, all you'll see are my eyes. I used to spend my weekends getting paid to blow my whistle at girls in lycra miniskirts. And I also umpired netball.
And, as you can see, once I start talking... I always have more to say than I thought. Verbose is an understatement.
So, I hope I've caught your interest a little, though I know this post is mostly for people who've come in mid-blog history and want to know who this fuckwit is. Or net!stalkers. So, whichever category you fall under, welcome and I hope I live up to your high expectations.
Lemon out.
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