In 2008 and 2009, I wrote a list of facts about myself…and it’s just weird reading these again because some of these things don’t apply to me anymore. For instance, three years ago I wrote:

….I prefer the single life. I don’t like commitment. I don’t ever want to get married. My opinions might change as I get older, but at this rate, going solo is the way to go. Also, I get ready really fast when I go out. Typically, my daily regime before heading out would be to change my clothes, use the bathroom, and then put on some deodorant. There’s nothing to it.

Today, I have a boyfriend and we’re happy, so I definitely rather be with him than be single (who’d a thunk it!?). I also take a little bit longer to get ready now. It might be due to the fact that I have a boyfriend and I guess I just want to look hot for him. And looking hot takes time.

Anyhoo, to carry on the good ol’ Tiff-blogging tradition, here are a few more facts for this year:

1. Wearing lipstick makes me feel whole again. Did that creep you out a little bit? Let me rephrase that: Without it, I’d feel like a part of my face would be naked–ok–not that you should be wearing clothes on your face or anything. I guess I rather look like a hot clown all the time.

2. I have a couple of sleeping disorders. In my sleep, I grind my teeth, sleep talk, sleep walk (sometimes other random physical activities) AND the complete opposite of sleep walking: sleep paralysis. Sleep paralysis is when you’re conscious (more or less) but your body is paralyzed and usually have a hard time breathing. That’s really the gist of it.

It’s one of the scariest things to experience because you can’t call for help! If you live with somebody, they would think you’re probably sleeping beauty when you’re all sleeping but NO–you’re really awake, conscious and aware of your surroundings and you’re slowly suffocating and your body is immobile–just fucking terrified out of your goddamn mind. I use to get it a couple of times a week, but now it’s just a few times a month.

3. Apparently, I look like someone. I always do. Friends, strangers, family members and acquaintances tend to mix me up with someone they know or use to know. I get a lot of, “Wow, you look just like my old best friend from high school!” “You should meet my cousin, you guys are twins,” or “Oh hey Crystal! Crystal? Oh, er, sorry I thought you were somebody else.”

It use to get REAL annoying, like, back in high school, there was a chick who didn’t like me and I later found out it was because some girl gave her a dirty look at church once and she thought the girl was me. Bitch, please.

The Most Average Female Asian Face in Teh World

At present, I’ve come to accept the fact that I have that average face everybody just knows…or that all Asian people look alike. One of those.

4. I feel bad for my boyfriend, because I act like my true, raw self when I’m with him, only him. If you remember what your psychology instructor use to teach you, then you should have an idea of the psychoanalytic theory of personality by Freud–which is composed of three parts: Id, ego and super-ego. My boyfriend, unfortunately, gets to witness the “id” concept of my personality. When he’s around, my actions tend to be a bit more impulsive and sometimes infantile (hey it’s out of love, man!).

Though, I’m guessing (more like hoping) it should be similar for other couples as well. Say, you’re on your first date with a guy who you’re really attracted to. To impress him you’re obviously going to try to sell yourself to him and convince him that you’re a really fun, awesome, far-from-psycho girl who deserves a second date (the ego). And THEN when you guys are finally an item, the longer you stay with him the more you are open and comfortable around him–and the more you’re comfortable are the more you…act out your basic instincts and blurt out whatever’s on your mind (the id!).

To everyone else and on this blog, I’m a fairly normal, stable person. To my boyfriend, well, I’m something else. *Smiles innocently*

5. Writing doesn’t come natural to me. This might sound really sad, but every time I’m typing up a long entry for this blog my brain gets a workout. Heck, I’m pretty positive I’m getting a good noggin’ exercise from typing this entry right now because of the following:

• Every time I try to figure out a difficult puzzle or a hardcore math problem my brain literally hurts. I feel it right now. Owie. See?
• No matter how tired or beat I am, I usually have a very hard time falling asleep after writing an entry because my brain is still running all over the place trying to figure out what the hell I just typed up for the last three hours.
• Speaking of three hours, that’s how long it usually takes me to type a regular entry. I don’t know how long it takes for other people to finish their entries, but I’m guessing it’s much faster than mine. I’m actually a pretty fast typer, I just have a harder time putting the right words together.

I posted a new entry last night, went to bed, then realized I forgot to add in something. So used my phone to try to edit a few things while I was in bed, but ended up deleting the whole entry on accident.

*Note to self: Never try to use WordPress on your Sidekick.

So where was I? My garage. Last time, I wrote about how annoying it can be to live in a garage with my parents.  This time, I have something new to stress about…the weird and unexplained things that goes on in here.

First, my mom’s 400 dollars went missing.  The weird part is she never loses anything, especially 400 bucks, and she said knew where it was.  Then again, I’m not the one who lost the money, so I can’t tell you how certain she was.

Second, I bought a headband and that went missing too.  The weird part is I never wore it.  It has always been sitting in a basket on top of the vanity desk, until three weeks later, I woke up and automatically noticed that my headband disappeared.  About two days ago, I found the headband just under my bed.  How did it get there? I’m not sure, the only people who are here besides me are obviously my parents, but they didn’t take my headband.

Third, after I had written the last entry, I turned off all the lights and went straight to bed.  Later in the day, my mom had told me that she was woken up in the middle of the night because the lights were on.  The weird part?  Light switches were on.

And today, my dad told me he was woken up just last night because he heard my feet shuffling and claimed that I was walking back and forth way too much.  Again, the weird part, it ain’t me! (/queue scary music)

So what could be the cause of all of this?  I’d love to say that I’m in a haunted garage, but my parents have been really freaked out lately, so I wouldn’t want to scare them. “Haunted” also makes it sound intriguing and scary, but since I’m someone who watches the show “Ghost Hunters” religiously, I’ve learned that before you can call a house haunted, you would have to find a more logical explanation(s) first for the weird occurrences.

The only “logical” explanation I can think of really at the moment is somebody’s doing it in their sleep.

Out of the three of us living in the garage, the one who has the most and only witnessed cases of sleepwalking (or sleep dancing, I’ll explain later) is…

(/hangs head in shame)

Yeah, it’s me. If sleepwalking were to be a talent and/ profession, I’d have a legitimate resume for it.

Well, wait, whatdoyaknow! I do have one:

(click for bigger size)

My parents would be proud.