I am a New England girl to the bone. I was born in Massachusetts and grew up there and in New Hampshire. Like any good New Englander, I know a few things about swearing and the Boston Red Sox.
It has become pretty common for people on TV (and especially on reality-TV) to talk about hating their family, but I’ve got to disappoint you: I’m tight with my family.
I love my mom, dad, brother and sister, and although we can fight like nobody’s business, I am not crazy screwed-up and resentful because I wasn’t hugged enough as a kid or didn't get a pony for Christmas.
Yeah, I’m a daddy’s little girl but was never a princess – although my pop did help turn me into the queen of tomboys. My daddy/daughter time was spent restoring a car like this one. I was (and am) a chick raised on sports, forts, guns and gears.
By the way, I am a chick. After working construction or having jobs where I was one of the few females in a boy’s club, I figured out I’m a woman and a girl - and happy to be both - but I like being called a chick – by the right people. A chick is tough but still feminine.
Sometimes it ain’t easy being a female, but it’s never all that hard to keep up with the guys. And yes, I like to shop. Got a problem with that?
The geek shall inherit the earth. I am a cornball, dork and nerd, and don’t take myself very seriously. I don’t read them too much lately, but I always had stacks of comic books as a kid. I’m also a comic con fiend.
For some reason, I have a weird fascination with the Spider-Man villain, the Hobgoblin. It’s weird, I admit it.
I hate Magic Eye pictures. Is it a friggin’ schooner or what? They make me angry.
Ghosts don’t scare me, and I’d be thrilled if one walked up to me and introduced herself. Know what freaks me out a little? Movies like Se7en or Primal Fear or The Strangers. The living are way scarier than the dead.
I love the ’70s. The music, the clothes, the cars; I’m a sucker for all of it. I must have been born a little late because my life’s soundtrack is all Zeppelin, Floyd, Beatles and of course, The Doors. Jim Morrison is my man, he just didn’t live long enough to know it.
So far I suck at surfing, but I’m learning. Luckily I’m good at camping, hiking and kayaking.
I don’t watch a lot of TV, but when I do, I like to rot my brain with VH1 reality stuff. Funny how the paranormal seems way more “normal” than most of what I see on those shows.
Speaking of rotting my brain, I love candy, ice cream and all sweet things. Chocolate and peanut butter belong together in my belly, Ben and Jerry are my dealers. One day I fear I might eat enough Sour Patch Kids to become one – which would be bad because then I’d have to eat my own limbs off.
I love to travel and explore new corners of the globe, and I’m up for most any adventure. But I still sometimes get finicky about food.
I’ll try a lot of stuff, but I don’t care how much of a delicacy something is – if the food on my plate looks or smells blatantly like a vital organ removed from a Tatooine roadkill scene – I ain’t eating it.
So there you go; that’s a little more about me that you don’t get from nightvision TV or butt shots.
But one thing the infrared camera does accurately depict: My lovely glowing laser eyes. Yeah, those are totally natural.