1. I am a twin. Yep! It's totally true. I'm a fraternal twin. My brother is 45 seconds younger than me, which means a lot when you're a twin, because technically that makes me the oldest. Though my brother claims that it was only because the doctors grabbed me first—it was, in other words, the "luck of the draw" (my mom had a C-section). My brother also likes to joke that I tried to kill him in the womb, because I “stole” all the nutrients. He says this because we were born about two months premature, so we were really really tiny. He was, however, quite a bit tinier than me. The doctors came to the conclusion that my brother was probably conceived about a week after I was. To which I say, “EWWWWWWWWWW!” and “WEEEEEEEEEEIRD!”
2. Speaking of siblings, I have two other sisters. One was born about two years after my brother and I, and the other was born when I was ten-years-old. The youngest one is deceased. You can read a little bit about how that happened here. I miss her every single day, and my heart sometimes physically hurts over it (just as much as it did the day I found out). My sister was cremated, and my mom, grandmother, siblings, and I got cremation jewelry pendants in order to always have a little part of her with us. I wear my heart pendant necklace every single day, and when I’m tired, nervous, sad, “zoning out,” bored, or annoyed, I rub and play with the pendant and think about my sister. Many people tell me this will eventually get easier, and some days (or weeks, or months) are better than others; however, it’s been two years, and I have yet to believe that.
3. My sister’s death had a lot to do with my decision to return to school. I reanalyzed my whole life, and realized that life is too short, and can be gone in an instant, so it shouldn’t be spent just going through the motions or doing a job I hate. I decided on social work because many people have told me that I’m a good listener, give good advice, and should be a counselor or therapist. I want to help people, specifically domestic violence victims and children. I learned many lessons from my sister’s death and feel as though her story and my life experience will lend an advantage in working with and understanding victims of domestic violence.
4. Music Man and I met on the Internet almost three and a half years ago. What is interesting about our meeting this way is that it turned out that we lived less than a mile apart, but had it not been for the internet, we probably never would've met. We were engaged within nine months, and got married on the two-year anniversary of our first date. I was ecstatic on my wedding day for all of the “normal” reasons, but especially because my name was going to change. I was excited to ditch my long, unique, hard to spell and pronounce, Scandinavian last name for a much simpler and more common name. (I kept it as my middle name though, because it is unique and I was attached to it more than to my original middle name.) Also, because I was my family’s spokesperson to the media up until a little over a week after my sister’s death, googling my maiden name just brings up all of the various news stories about her death. I’m glad to technically not be “that girl” anymore…as if that legacy no longer follows me because I no longer carry that name.
5. The reason I call my husband Music Man on this blog is that he is a musician; he plays bass in a local band. He’s not trying to make it big or be a rock star—it’s more of a hobby for him—he plays for fun (though some of the gigs don’t pay too bad, so that extra spending money is nice). I went to Music Man’s gigs a lot more when we were dating than I do now that we’re married. He doesn’t seem to mind, but I sometimes feel badly about it. In my defense, many of the gigs are weeknight gigs; Music Man and I agree that it’s not fair to the dogs to kennel them in the evening after they’ve been in their kennels all day while we’re at work, so I stay home with them. Also, I’ve gotten busy with school, and homework just needs to come first sometimes. And my final excuse is that I’m getting old! I cannot stay out until past midnight and still roll my ass outta bed bright and early the next morning to face another day. I just can’t do it. Sometimes, Music Man plays great gigs in our favorite city on the North Shore. We use these gigs as an excuse to take mini-vacations in which we rent a hotel room for a night or a weekend and enjoy one of our favorite cities in the whole state. This happens at least a few times a year and is a super nice excuse to get away and refresh for just a bit.
6. My house is an absolute pigsty right now. It’s bad! Last semester was a demanding one, and then I spent the first couple weeks of this year being very sick, so the housework has been set on the backburner. Music Man has tried to keep up with his share of the household chores, but our house is still shameful at the moment. I would be embarrassed to have anyone over right now. I don’t know what has happened to me—I used to be so cleaning crazed that there was no way my house would ever get to this level of dirty. I used to clean even if I was sick—sometimes I swore it made me feel better. I don’t know if my priorities have changed, or I’ve become lazy, or what. I do hope to remedy this problem by cleaning my ass off tomorrow, and Music Man and I are going to price out housecleaning services to see if this is a luxury we can afford. (I would be willing to cancel Netflix and Cable at this point.) Having help just every other week would have a huge impact. Of course, we’d have to figure out what to do about the dogs on those days.
7. I hate cleaning bathrooms. HATE! But, I refuse to let Music Man take over the task, because I just don’t trust that he’ll get it done the “right” way. I’m the same way about laundry; I don’t mind doing laundry so much—it’s the folding and putting away part that I hate (especially socks and underwear!). I am a bit of a perfectionist and a control freak, which seems to conflict with number 5, and I’m surprised Music Man puts up with it sometimes. (This is one of the many reasons we have decided not to have children. I think I would just lose it if my children weren’t completely under my control all the time, and we all know that’s not a realistic expectation to have of children; not to mention that it would probably make for a not so good childhood.)
Wow! That was harder than I thought it would be, but there you go. I am an open book; if there are any questions you have, dear reader, don’t be afraid to ask them in the comments section on any of my blog posts. I will address them by replying to your comment within the comments thread or in a future blog.