Turn back now, it's a look into mobright's mind

Hmmm…6:40 p.m. on production night and I'm just now starting to write my column. For those of you who know me, this is a regular occurrence-writing something at the last minute. I am the current President of Procrasti-nation and contrary to popular belief among my friends, and my parents, it is not a position I hold with pride.

I am not the person to go too far in depth on political issues or for specific literary references to back up all of my arguments at the drop of a hat. I feel that I should be "inspired" (I picture that word in my mind flashing in cursive letters with sparkles in the background, just to give it a little something extra), but alas, I am not moved to write some gripping tale recounting a recent epiphany or a "moral of the story". However, I like to talk. And I feel the need to fill a happiness and randomness quota. Hence, randomness is the theme of this short piece.

I've been doing a lot of self reflection lately, trying to decipher who I am, what makes me "special" (enter in another sparkly word) and what I contribute to the world. I'm hoping that sitting down and looking at some seemingly insignificant details in my personality will reveal some deep hidden secret that has been locked away in my twisted psyche…or at least this will provide some entertainment and light reading during finals week.

So, interesting quirks about myself…

I have no problem talking about sex. At all. Be it graphic details from a porn movie, the nature of human sexuality or anatomy. I can talk about it comfortably and can adapt the conversation to fit whoever I'm with.

So why is it that I can't stand it when anyone makes a comment about my appearance? It could be something as basic as "You have a pretty face" and I'm uncomfortable beyond all reason. I actually sprinted out of work a few nights ago when some male coworkers kept talking about me. It's not a "fishing for compliments" strategy, more like an "oh crap, run away" reaction.

I have the weirdest sense of humor. I love Chuck Norris jokes, and I am determined to meet him and give him a hug before I die. This is especially bizarre because I have never seen one of his movies or more than three minutes of "Walker Texas Ranger."

My weird sense of humor probably comes from my need to constantly entertain myself. I carry in my purse a deck of cards, glow in the dark silly putty and a rubik's cube so I am prepared for any situation that may require more than a millisecond of sitting unsupervised.

I sing and dance around a lot, especially when I'm tired. You can tell when I'm about to pass out because I'll start obnoxiously singing The Brady Bunch theme song.

I'm a bit of a thrill seeker. I love cliff jumping, rock climbing, roller coasters, sky diving and driving fast. I'm afraid of the most random things though, like jellyfish and armadillos. Yeah, don't know why.

I am my worst critic, or so people say. I believe I am honest. Enough said about that.

I have still have a dream that I will one day move to Hollywood and become an actress, but also have a strong fear of rejection so will most likely never pursue the fantasy.

I am on my way to becoming one of the "cat ladies". I have two cats right now that live with me, Pooter and Pip, as well as an additional three at my parent's house. They are my babies, especially Pooter.

I get overwhelmed by my emotions and the love I feel for the people I care about.

I love to get excited about everything. I like finding excuses to be really happy, hyper and crazy.

I steal people's food, always. Even if I have the same exact thing in front of me.

I am notorious for my belching skills, my parent are so proud.

I am that one girl who you can never really describe no matter how hard you try. So I'm just going to let it slide, enjoy the rest of the school year, and go grab some of the vegetarian lasagna that was brought in. So, in typical "mobright" style, I will abruptly say good luck grads and peace out! •