I’m the girl who says “thanks” if you hold the door for me. I say “bless you” when people sneeze. I’m the girl sitting in the next car at the stoplight, singing and dancing all over the place. I’m the girl who breaks into impromptu dance routines when a car drives by with a loud stereo. I’m the girl who can relate a song to any situation in her life.
I’m the girl who has a million “little brothers”, who I love dearly. I’m the girl who people come to with their problems, and if I don’t have advice, I can find some comforting words. I’m the girl who’s a music junkie, but not a band whore. I’m the girl who didn’t cry during “Titanic”.
I’m the girl who sits in the cafeteria every day, reading a newspaper during lunch. And I generally leave the newspaper for someone else.
I’m the girl who never thought about planning a wedding, or picking out a dress, but now, at the “ripe ol’ age of 27”, I need to think about those things. I’m the girl who always thought wrestling was dumb, but now I watch it like some people watch soap operas. I’m the girl who can drink Guinness with the guys, but occasionally has the froofy girly drink.
I’m the girl with the constant soundtrack playing in her head, who never liked New Kids on the Block, Vanilla Ice, Led Zeppelin, Beck, or Madonna, no matter how popular they got.
I’m the girl who has no clue where all of this is coming from, but is curious to see what other people would say when asked “who are you?”
I’m the over-reacting, maniacal driver who will ALWAYS use a turn-signal and check blind spots, who will let you in front of her in heavy traffic but NOT the person behind you (and if they try and get in they get a nasty glare) the girl who really needs some new clothes, who wears tank tops and sandals in winter, who doesn’t club much, but when she does, it’s till the clubs close or her legs give out (unless she has to work the next day). The girl who loves singing the blues, who will give you the shirt off her back until the moment you take it for granted. The person who is alternately hugely sympathetic and hugely p!ssed off. The person who talks openly about sexual experiences and technique in public places, but tries to avoid swearing when ‘little ears’ are in the area. The margarita junkie who’s trying to learn to like beer (cream ale is all I can stomach ATM) The fuzzy/curly headed tall cool blonde/drink. The person who’s also alternately shy and obnoxious, but tries not to be either. The person who hates pretty women, but loves it when they turn out to be both nice and intelligent as well as pretty. The snugglebum. The cook. The person who always knows what she wants to buy before she enters the store. The person who loves loves loves babies and toddlers but is not quite sure how to handle the 5-14 year old range just yet (but figures she’ll have that handled by the time she actually HAS kids) The engaged and strictly monogamous girl who flirts with everyone. The person who considers sex toys fun, but detests porn and stripping (the act, not the people)(and I don’t really understand why).
The person who wants a whole LOTTA attention. But isn’t sure what to do when she gets it
I’m that guy. You know, the one you don’t recognize by name, but you’ve seen me before. I’m the guy that wants to come talk to you, but is too shy to say those first few words, or how to advance the conversation past them because he’s nervous. I’m the guy that tells a lot of jokes to hide deep-rooted insecurities. I’m the guy that you never know whether to take seriously. I’m the guy who tells people that, when he gets like he gets, that people either have to kiss him or slug him, but has never had either happen. The guy who’s been in love, deeply, twice, and had his heart destroyed both times. The guy who’s looking for someone to fill in the parts of him that aren’t complete. That hangs on to an ideal, and compares everyone against it, knowing they’ll never quite measure up, but powerless to stop himself from doing it. The guy that has trouble acting normal. The guy with the piercing blue eyes who doesn’t quite like the person that he is, but doesn’t know how to become the person he wants to be. I’m the guy whose feelings never really come up to the surface. Except when he’s angry. But the other emotions he doesn’t really think he’s capable of feeling. The guy who has stopped feeling things, and is looking for the right person to teach him how to love and feel again. The guy who never really knows how to quit while he’s ahead. The guy who’s had a history of questionable actions, yet seems to do the same things over and over. The guy who desperately wants to be liked by everyone, and more than anything else, wants people to miss him when he’s not around. The guy who’s never really had light in his eyes.
You’d recognize me in a group. I’m the adolescent too shy to ask any girl to dance. I’m the quiet guy in your college class who knew the answers but never raised his hand because, while liking attention, he didn’t like being singled out. I’m the guy who rarely offered to help but would always go well out of his way to help if asked. I’m the guy who would never volunteer, but if selected, did his level best at the job.
[Todd Snider]
I’m the face you’ve seen a million times.
The one who never seems to fit in between those lines.
I’m every broken dream this world has left behind.
I’m the face you’ve seen a million times.
[/Todd Snider]
I’m the girl from New York, the one who rarely speaks except to crack a joke, who never smiles, who hides in the back of the classroom in her long black jacket and wears her gloves all the time .
I’m the girl who names her cars and ascribes personalities to them, who’s so intensely loyal even to an inanimate object that she’d rather stay with her old Cavalier with so many problems than sell it or trade it for a Dodge Daytona with fewer problems but less personality. I’m the girl who swears like a sailor if you don’t use your turn signals and otherwise operate your vehicle properly when driving ahead of her. I’m the girl who turns every drive into an adventure and a qualifying run.
I’m the girl who hears music in her head, sometimes “real” released songs, sometimes not, and hums to herself when she’s walking.
I’m the girl who fell in love before first sight and knew it was right the moment she laid eyes on her man.
I’m the girl who was once described as a goth cowgirl, the girl whose most-played CDs are Metallica’s S&M and the Dixie Chicks’ Wide Open Spaces.
I’m the daughter of a long-haul trucker and a full-time homemaker, and I’m the girl who can’t decide whether she wants to be a good little housewife and keep house for her husband and make a wonderful home, or buy a silver metal travel trailer and an old car to haul it with and live on the road… or maybe both.
Music:
I’m the guy who sits at his desk at work and listens to Billy Joel and Elton John to get thought the day.
I am the guy that also sings along with the song, be it at work, in the car or at home.
I am the guy who can sit and listen to just about everything.
Emotions:
I am the guy that is in touch with his emotions, but suppress the dark ones.
I am the guy in your office that always seems to be happy, regardless of what is going on, but tends to rant when things get really bad.
Thoughts:
I am the guy that has an opinion on just about everything.
I am the guy who tends to tell things like they are. I do not butter things over ‘just to make you feel better’.
[sub](See “Pregnant Girl in My Office Who Just Went On Mat-Leave”? I told you having the baby would not be like having a little doll. Wouldn’t listen to me though, would you?)[/sub]
People:
I’m the guy that can get along with everyone, but has no patience for blatant stupidity and/or ignorance.
I’m the guy that people like to be with when they are down, then know they will get support, but it will be honest and not always what they want to hear.
I’m the guy to take with you when you go to the pub. Other:
I’m the guy that will eventually Take Over The World.
I’m the girl who wouldn’t have gotten that a month ago, but has since been hooked to B5 to the tune of 6 episodes a week (usually squeezed into one day).
I am the girl who loves the dry-boned desert (I think Tucson is too lush to be desert); who loves hiking for a week through volcanic rubble and fragrant, wicked plants. I am the girl who always has a compass on her; who laps up the silence of open bajadas like a tune.
I’m the girl who stomps her foot the loudest at a jam session, the one who knows the most folk tunes for singing around the camp fire and the most limericks.
I’m the girl who likes to be contrary for the sake of argument (but suppose that I don’t…).
I am the girl who, when leading you through the Boyce-Thompson Arboretum, encourages you to try eating bits of the various plants. I’m the one who you find in the hot spring late at night looking at stars. I’m the one you might even find barefoot in the dunes.
i’m that overweight guy who spends too much time on the computer and is rotting because of it. however, when he is forcibly removed from the computer and tossed outside, he becomes a nature-ey guy. if he had lived before the computer age, he would’ve been that kid who only come inside to eat, and that only sometimes.
he’s the guy you’d think was probably not all on the ball, or maybe a few sandwiches short of a picnic, or some other cute euphamism for “borderline insane” or “some sorta idiot”.
well, until you got to know him, of course.
he’s often described as smart or funny or cute, but he doesn’t think so. most people think that’s smart or funny or cute of him.
he’s that guy who, when you become anything more than just “that guy in the halls” to him, just opens up like a flower.
he also almost always wears tan shirts with khaki shorts, except today because he went all crazy and wild and put on a subdued green shirt.
he also talks about himself in the third person when asked “hey! who are you?” on an online message board, though he’ll probably just drop the explosives and run if it happened in real life.
I’m that guy who is always looking at the pavement when you walk by. I’m the finds museums and city parks to be the best refuge from an often maddening world. I’m the guy who sits in the back of a neighborhood pub, writing poetry and listening to the hum of background noise. I’m the guy who speaks with his eyes. I’m the guy who watches old movies at 3 AM, because he’s afraid to sleep. I’m the guy who’s friends have all grown up and moved away. I’m the guy who is on the continuing mission for a smaller pair of glasses. I’m the fly on the wall. I’m the guy who guy you know you’ve seen before, but can’t remember where.
Ooohh… I love these. We did this in my Group Counseling and Multicultural Counseling classes… we refer to it as the ‘I am…’ exercise. It’s a great ice-breaking technique for therapy groups. And, since I happen to have my notebook here (have Multi class tonight), I can just type in what I said… (and yes, we had to read these out loud, and YES I did get very strange looks)
I am…
… a child of Mother Earth and Father Sky
… a sister and friend to the four-leggeds, two-leggeds, winged and scaled
… a fierce descendent of a strong people, whose painted skin brought terror to those who fought them
… loyal those who deserve my loyalty
… a champion for the underdog
… tempered by experience
… a lover of knowledge
… a blood daughter and sister, but family to many more
… a partner of equal standing in a union blessed by the Ancient Ones
… a myth-maker and storyteller
… a creator of music
… scarred, but not broken
… a speaker with those who came before
… a follower of my own path
… timeless
… unsure, but not afraid
… a cognitive behaviorist
I’d have written more, but we only had five minutes to come up with something.
I am an artist. Or, I could be considered an artist if I only had the time. As a result I’ve been reduced to making insurance, money and financial planning look interesting. It pays the bills. I am the one in the office who admits to making a mistake, because I know that I am THAT GOOD, but that I am also human. I also get heated when someone else won’t admit to their own mistakes.
I am also a mother, which makes me guilty:
Kids have a cavity?
[sub]well, you know, the mom must not be making him brush enough.[/sub]
Son is not catching on as quickly as the other students?
[sub]Do you have books at home? Do you read to your son? Do you know how to read?[/sub]
Food not in the house?
[sub]My fault.[/sub]
Dishes not done?
[sub]Guilty.[/sub]
House not immaculate?
[sub]Me.[/sub]
Husband not f***ed a minimum of four times a week?
[sub]Me.[/sub]
I am the one who says “OK” too much. As a consequence, I find out who my friends are pretty quickly. I find it hard to trust people. My pendulum of trust swings back and forth which each of your actions until I have a good understanding of who you are. I am the one who bites her tongue way more than she should, but once the shit hits the fan watch out. I can take a lot, but once there’s that little straw breaking my back, I will write you out of my trust and heart forever. I can hold a grudge better than a Jewish grandmother. I am extremely shy in an unknown environment, and often scared to open up my mouth even when it’s to my own benefit. I’ll tell you the truth when you ask me, though. But first you have to ask.
[sub]Sorry, but it’s just not a good week to be me.[/sub]
I’m the tall, dark-eyed brunette that always sits in the front row in class, and never talks. I am the girl that sits by herself at lunch, with only her CD player and biology homework to keep her company. I am the girl that stays home saturday nights, and is never asked to dance. I am the girl who likes to feed the pigeons in the park on sunday afternoons. I am the girl who tries to hard to fit in, but everyone hates for some inexplicable reason. I am the girl who is best friends with her cat, who is seemingly the only one who loves her.
I’m the girl who can relate a song to any situation in her life.
