On the Twenty-Second Day of Christ*&^%$

On the Twenty-Second Day of Christ*&^%$, TiZ reveals to you...

Life's cheer that I am, I never needed/wanted to be a cheerleader in the classical sense.

Drawing attention to yourself instead of to the team, to me, didn't make sense.  And if you're wearing skirts that short AND glitter lip gloss, believe you me, you're trying to draw attention to yourself.

I think I'm lucky I didn't grow up pretty or popular.

I'm sure you already do, but believe you me, I was not pretty or popular.

When I was 13 (a roooooooough age for me), I asked Nana if I was pretty.

She said, "I think so.  But it's going to take the rest of the world awhile to realize it."

My mother was rigorously honest.

My mother was strangely kind.

I ate comfort food for an entire year after Nana died.

I'm amazed I'm not the size of a house.

I AM the size of the tool shed out back.

I've lost my 40 year battle with cholesterol.

I was a test bunny for Yale New Haven Hospital when I was 9.

They kept me from eating butter, peanut butter, eggs and whole milk.

Skim milk tastes like SHIT when you're 9.

I don't drink milk to this day.

But I can take a stick like a pro.

I finally had my last two wisdom teeth removed.

I've paid more for Baxter's healthcare this year than my own.

I happily lose hours walking my ridiculous mutt.

I caught the mouse, since Baxter considered it his new toy.

I used a humane trap (just don't have the heart for the other) and now Baxter's new toy lives on Upper Park Avenue.