Confessional 2

Confessions continued.

I have a secret love for gingers.

I can't handle one on one conversations with (almost) anyone.

My personality sits on the fence that divides pessimism, realism, and paranoia.

Blood is in my top ten list of most easily recognized scents.

Sometimes I use smarties to make decisions, with every color representing an option.

I change writting style so often that sometimes I don't recognize my own handwriting.

Sometimes I draw faces on teeth(that have been extracted), or I tie them together with floss and build tooth sculptures- Aka Toothasaurus. I think they are actually really good, and kind of funny, but I'm pretty sure people would judge me for doing this if they saw it.

For the most part I hate peoples mouths. And mucusy-saliva. In fact I have a whole list of reasons not to work in a dental office in my facebook notes.

I work in a dental office. I haven't left yet because I like the money.

I want a tattoo. I know I shouldn't, but I do. Recently I even brought it up with my father...I was watching LA Ink, and my Dad walked in and asked why I was watching it, eventually it got to a point in the conversation that went like this
Me: What would you do, IF I got a tattoo? Kill me?
Dad: No. I'd just take a scalpel and cut it off you. Don't put it too close to your heart.
...I think he was being serious.

My knee, hips, shoulders and my back give me problems on a fairly regular basis. I don't blame rugby, I blame genetics.

I rip phone books in half for fun.

I think people who get offended are stupid. Im sorry if you are offended you are stupid. (Punctuate that last sentence however you want to. I mean it in every way possible.)

There we have a part two. You can probably expect a part three.