As is my custom, with Christmas coming, and so many of you off celebrating with your families, I like to take advantage of the temporary proverbial ghost town of the internet and confess a series of random and shameful things:
1. A Christmas Story is not my favorite Christmas movie. I...don't even really like it, so much. It's...okay? I guess? I feel like this is technically something that you'd call blasphemy, but given that the holiday isn't of my faith, I'll just call it "probably an unpopular opinion." For my money ("For my money?" Who am I? My grandfather? Classy chassis! Hold the wire! Swell!), the best Christmas movies are National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation ("GRACE?" "THE BLESSSSSSING"), and Love Actually.
2. Until I was...well, into the low double digits, age-wise, I believed that an "oil change" involved....
~ wait for it ~
Going to a new gas station, and trying a different brand of gas than you usually did. I'm not certain why I conflated oil and gas, or why I felt brand loyalty was such an integral part of fueling one's car. And the whole formality of an official oil (well, gas) change? I have no idea what was wrong with me. I will, however, attempt to blame this on never pumping my own gas, as I grew up in New Jersey.
3. I will go through entire days without drinking a drop of water.
4. I routinely count on my hands and get butt-clenchingly nervous when I have to calculate, say, a delivery person's tip on the fly.
5. There are times when I'm using my iPhone in my own home on 3G, and feel like toggling down to turn on the WiFi signal (thereby speeding up my phone's performance) is just too much work. This is my new benchmark for laziness in life, and I'm hard-pressed to think of what could possibly surpass it.
6. I cannot pronounce the word "mobile." I genuinely never know when (and/or whether) it's "moble" or "mo-bile" or "mo-beel." It comes up more often then you'd think.
7. Due to seeing a very dark animated version of Rikki-Tikki-Tavi as a child, I have numerous lifelong (apparently) cobra-related fears. Fears that are totally valid here in my New York apartment, which is clearly similar in so many ways to a remote bungalow in an Indian jungle (the story's setting). The latest has me vigorously shaking out my boots before putting them on. You know, JUST IN CASE.
Anything ridiculous you'd like to confess? Go for it!
(And a very Merry Christmas to everyone celebrating!)