You know how you start dating someone, find out all the weird and uncomfortable things about them, and wish you had known about it all before you got trapped? People should issue disclaimers about themselves before even daring to enter into a romantic relationship…right?
Well here’s mine. Basically, this is all the stuff about myself that potential daters WILL find out about me…eventually. But rather than wait for that sad and sticky end, I’ve decided to let the entire world of potential suitors, or at least anyone who comes across this article through a mutual friend on Facebook, get to know me first before trying any funny business. So here it goes.
1: I am terrible at taking things seriously.
I’ve never been to a funeral. If I had, I’m sure I would have made some awful joke, then commented on the crowd being “dead” tonight. This is why I don’t get invited to normal social situations.
I’m not afraid to admit this early on in our hypothetical relationship (look at us! We’re committing!) that I use humor as a defense mechanism. Most of my friends use samurai swords or shields but no! Not I! Sarcasm is mightier than the pen, which is mightier than the sword. So sarcasm is mightier than the sword. Keep this in mind for when you go to your next Red Wedding.
My “sarcynism” can be of great entertainment value in appropriate situations. I like to think that sarcynism (sar-NUH-siz-IM), like my large orange cat, will be my one constant companion in life. It gets me through dull situations and allows me to internally wit my way through less than scintillating interactions with the maniacal squirrels on campus.
Simply put, I use wit and snarkasm at both appropriate and inappropriate times. Without these tools at my disposal, I would be incredibly boring, but probably much easier to get along with.
2: I think I have an incredible singing voice.
I will sing without realizing it. OR SO YOU MIGHT THINK. In reality I’m completely conscious of my harmonious voice belting out “Reflection” from the classic Disney animated film Mulan. I’m hitting those high notes like I hit home runs in softball! (Note: I thought I was really good at softball too. Tripping over home plate does not actually count as a home run. My parents didn’t like to see me fail as a child.)
I will recount my memories of being a soprano in my 7th grade chorus and you will nod along and pretend to care (if you’ve actually made it this far in the disclaimer without writing me off, then in which case, CONGRATULATIONS!!! Your celebratory pin with a photo of my left ear on it should be in your mailbox shortly!!!)
I will talk about how I belted Christmas songs in my chorus prime and will try to relive my glory days. You sit in silence. I had a solo! I tipped a tiny bowler hat to the audience at the end! They cheered and gasped in awe as I trilled! Enough already, stop asking me about it!
3: I am completely, irrevocably, irreversibly obsessed with Harry Potter and all things related to the series.
Including, but not limited to, these book/movie characters: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Hagrid, Dumbledore, Harry’s owl Hedwig, Professor McGonagall, the Dursleys, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Mad-Eye Moody, all the Hogwarts professors, Hagrid’s dog Fang, Aragog the giant spider, Dudley Dursley’s elusive friend Piers who was only mentioned once in the first book, Nicholas Flamel, the Hogwarts ghosts, Hermione’s cat Crookshanks, all of the Death Eaters, anyone wearing a cloak or carrying a wand, Dobby, the dragon that tried to eat Harry in book 4, the other dragon that helped Harry, Ron and Hermione escape Gringotts, gold Galleons, the Sorting Hat, the troll in the dungeon (“Thought you ought to know!”), Ron’s rat Scabbers and transitively, Peter Pettigrew, Tom Marvolo Riddle, Harry’s right shoe, that painting on the second floor third painting over…
You get it. But future suitors, beware. If you mention that you like Harry Potter and you’re relatively funny and/or attractive (Personality is what matters! If you’re ugly too!), you will literally never get rid of me.
I once saw a “NeXXt!” episode on MTV where a guy that loved Harry Potter took his NeXXt! Dates to do Harry Potter related activities. They were hoisted in the air to play Quidditch and fed each other Bertie Botts’ Every Flavor Beans blindfolded. Then the main guy was talking to one of his dates, and had just asked him what his favorite Harry Potter book was. The date confessed he had only read the first four books, and didn’t remember them that well. The main guy’s face turned stony. He opened his mouth and barked that one syllable word that made his date cringe in shame.
If you do not like Harry Potter, potential suitor, picture this. You are the date, and I am the Potterhead from NeXXt. You reveal your ignorance for the most incredible book series ever written and I yell NEXT at you so ferociously you’ll feel like you’re being tortured by the Cruciatus Curse. What? You don’t know what the Cruciatus Curse is? Get out. Get out immediately.
4: I have a hard time differentiating between fantasy and reality.
One of the main reasons that clearly insane parents campaign to get Harry Potter off library book shelves is because they believe their children can’t distinguish the world of magic and Hogwarts and wizardry from the reality they’re living in. Many famous psychology experts believe that children are smarter than parents give them credit for. These kids know the difference between fact and fiction. They know magic doesn’t exist! These books aren’t tricking or corrupting their children. Silly parents, tricks are for politicians!
I am not among one of these super children. Fantasy novels were always a comfort to me as a kid. I honestly never even thought about using drugs or dropping acid or smokin’ up or whatever the cool kids do these days to escape real life, because I had found a much easier, definitely healthier way to evade reality: books.
My lungs thank me! But my brain does not.
Fantasy is safe and soothing. Reality is terrifying. And that, kids, is what those Christian supremacists do NOT want you to know. Now go out and work that Wicca magic!
5: I love stuffed animals.
I was totally the kid who had 15 different stuffed animals on her bed and they most definitely had a specific order they were arranged in. Now, I own 4 Pillow Pets, not including my 2 mini Pillow Pets. For a while my stuffed animals all had personalities too. Now they just serve the purpose of looking cute and occasionally being used to support my ever-aching back while I enjoy a nice Sudoku puzzle. These qualities combined make me an 80-year-old man.
6: If you smack your lips while you eat, I will force feed you through a tube.
There is no reason why you can’t eat quietly in a dignified fashion. When you smack your lips, I am reminded of the fact that you are mashing up your food in your mouth into little proteins and carbohydrates and then you are going to defecate it out. I instantly visualize the entire digestive system. It’s gross.
7: I have no concept of time.
For some reason, I am convinced that it takes me six minutes to walk to class every day. It doesn’t. It takes at least eight. Yet I consistently overestimate the amount of time it takes for me to get anywhere on any given day. I’m either 20 minutes early or 2 minutes late to every place I go. I’m pretty sure that my biological clock is either going to go off in six months or when I’m 73. Similarly, I have no sense of direction. You would think both of these tragic flaws could be avoided by alarm clocks and GPS navigation but no. They are somehow still unavoidable.
8: Don’t try to get me to like sports that aren’t played on broomstick.
I thought March Madness was a disease until this year. Once I finally figured out the truth, I made a bracket. I picked Duke to win. Renamed the phenomenon March Sadness. You just don’t get the same kind of disappointment with Quidditch (Maybe because it’s made-up! My disillusioned cousin would say). But you can’t deny that I’m right.
So there you have it- a list of things about me that will most likely turn you off, if you’ve lasted this far through the list. The rest you get to find out yourself. And if you’re still interested at this point? You’re probably psychotic.
I’ll probably try to propose to you within the hour.