If i’m twiddling my hair I am usually thinking, or just being addicted to the feeling of crunchy hair spray.

I stick my fingers in my kitten’s mouth so she can lick them, i’m not sure I like the fact she enjoys licking my eyebrows.

I am deaf, but I am also selectively deaf. I use deafness to my advantage. But I worry that people find my what? What? WHAT?s irritating.

I wish I had more friends, despite trying really hard not to lose them; I do on a regular basis. I’m trying to persuade myself that it’s not all my fault.

I make up stories all the time about why people are somewhere, doing something. It’s like I know them and can read their mind. I know I am right every time.

I don’t really understand much of the jargon I read in sci-fi books. I’m not sure I actually have to need to. I just like terms like dyson sphere and galactic north and gengineer and hyperdrive. I’m amazed how someone can write a story in made up words.

I’m scared of waterslides.

I really don’t like exercising and think that I am missing the gene that gives you the endorphin ‘rush’ that everyone talks about.

I’m not good at losing control through drink, I have to force myself to keep up with people, to let loose, be a little ‘crazy’. It doesn’t come naturally to me. My drinking usually involves me sitting alone – it does not make me sociable.

I forget I’m 4’11’’ until I see a photo of myself and then i’m actually shocked how crazy it looks.

I get night terrors, vivid night terrors. I don’t sleep too well.

I wonder sometimes if life would be easier if my life wasn’t such a rollercoaster – but then I think a little white pill would make things boring. I prefer the ups and downs to numbness and a cure.

I am ridiculously jealous of my sister having marrying rich. It goes against all my sensibilities and my demands for real love; but I would like to travel as much as she can.

I have been a cheerleader and a high class prostitute (on stage) neither which appeals to be. But the male adoration and/or money involved in these careers does.

I only discovered vibrators at the age of 30.

I have self esteem issues because of things that have happened in the past. I wish I could let go of the baggage but i’m too addicted to thinking woe is me.

I don’t really like possessions but I’ve become cluttered over the years. I’m wondering if I should throw most of my possessions out when I move flat next month. It would be nice to be minimal again.

I wish I was a make up artist rather than a town planner. I find myself wanting to correct people’s eyeliner all the time.

I know its wrong but find really really really fat people incredibly vile and wonder how they got themselves into that state. Then I have to cross over the road to be away from them. (Yes I know I am going to go to hell for this one).

I don’t like pasta. I think its bland and boring and just don’t get it.

I don’t really listen to much music, but I love to dance. When I am washing up I listen to the Counting Crows or Van Morrison. Fin my tomcat loves to be picked up and be danced around the living room.

I like smoking, scratch that, I love smoking. That’s making it very hard to give up.

I am jealous of confident people who always have something to say. I’m usually struggling to find conversation topics and a way of sloping off home early. I don’t do networking events.

Every week I type my real mother’s name into Google to see if she has started to look for me yet. I’m scared to progress my search any more than that. I wonder if I look like her. I’ve never had a real family where i’m related to someone. I’m scared that i’m never going to find someone to have that kind of real family with.

I refuse to sing or do karaoke unless it’s in a foreign accent. I can’t do foreign accents.