The last time I began a series, it also was inspired by Julie (please refer to the Crock Pot Challenge). She found this interesting thing posted on Pintrest. (I refuse to join Pintrest, as I know I have an addictive personality).


Since my days have consisted of work, eat, and sleep, and there has been a serious lack of blogging, I can feel the stress and anxiety creeping up on me! I figured this would be a great way to re-initiate my blogging, a way for you to get to know me better, and a way for me to get to know you by your comments!

So here it goes…

10 Secrets about me… 

(in absolutely no order)

  • Despite my love for everything Sicilian, I’m a sucker for blue eyes.

paul walker

I just can’t help it. My first love, God help me, was Nick Carter, of the Backstreet Boys. All throughout high school and college I always had a thing for a good friend of mine, who, of course, had beautiful blue eyes. Even some of the people I work with and care for, despite being with Barry, make me weak in the knees, SOLEY because blue eyes.

  • I would not be able to survive without music.

WP_002129Music has always been a part of me, thanks to my dad. MY first memory of music involves dad an I dancing around the den, at home, to a cassette of Locomotion, by Grand Funk Railroad. Music is such a passion of my dad and I that we even got matching treble clef tattoos. I grew up singing, and as my feelings and vocabulary and my taste in music broadened, I began writing my own songs. To this day, I still write and constantly sing. I think maybe thats why blogging comes so naturally… I love fining my old lyrics, though, and flashing back to the time I wrote them, remembering the circumstances… Music has and always will be my connection to life and to myself. If I lost music, I’d loose myself.

  • My eating disorders are, and continue to be, the hardest thing I live with, everyday.

Just from reading the blog, you can tell the mass roller coaster of emotions my body and mind go through. Everyday is a struggle to eat, or control what I eat, how much I eat, can I work it off, when will I work it off, should I throw it up, what will I look like… Every day I argue with myself. Everyday I face the fear of going back to where I began. Its terrifying.

  • My breasts, legs, lips, and eyes are my favorite features.122_9833110227_160_n

Being a heavy girl for majority of my life, big boobs were pretty much the only thing I had to work with. In fact, my nickname was “Tits.” If I had a nickle for every time someone told me to cover up my cleavage, I’d be rich girl. When I starting running, my legs began to get tone, and I love them now! I’ve always been told I was a “cute girl” or had a “pretty face,” which is basically what you say to any chubby girl, so not to completely derail their self confidence.  But I have always loved how dark my brown eyes are, the blue ring that surrounded my iris, when I was younger, and the definition of my lips.

  • Despite my constant preaching to others about loving themselves, I have the hardest time loving myself.

I believe women are beautiful. I believe that the power to love yourself for everything you are, should be a priority. (Its why I adore the Vagina Monologues. I love myself more during those few weeks, than I do throughout the rest of the year.) I believe that we live in a society where being yourself, just is not good enough. You need to be better than you are. This is not just referring to physical features, but to academics, friendships, clothing, careers. There’s nothing wrong with a little competition in life, especially against yourself; and God know’s how great it feels to push yourself and then celebrate that accomplishment… but when does that become too much. I love myself, but I’m disgusted, too. Just like many men and women, I dwell on my negatives, rather than exploiting my positives. I have accomplished a weight loss of over 100 pounds before my eating disorder began. What an amazing accomplishment! But now that I’m at a healthy weight, I still can’t look at my stomach without complete disgust.

  • I realized I wanted to be a nurse when my grandmother got sick, when I was in high school.

I am the only female in my family. I had a special relationship with my grandmother for that reason alone. She taught me how to crochet, cook, and bake, and even taught me some Italian. As her health began to decline, towards the end of my junior year of high school, I took the role of helping her dress and bathe, cook, paint her nails…. People would say, “You’re really good at that. Have you thought about nursing?” I began to hear it enough, that I contemplated the concept. I’ve always loved helping others, and I am good at this, the body fascinates me… The more I thought about it, the more I was intrigued. When my grandmother finally passed my senior year, the people I remembered the most were her nurses, not her doctors or specialists. When I cried, it was the nurse that comforted me… I want to be that memory for others….


  • Up until I found my love for nursing, I had every intention of becoming an astronomer.

I loved and still love astronomy. NASA’s website was bookmarked on my computer, as was the AFROTC space aeronautical program. My specialty is black holes. I’ve done soooo much research and have actually written papers, on black holes.

  • I believed in Santa Claus until I was 11, and was furious at my parents for lying to me for 11 years. (I still believe in Santa Claus.)

I remember sitting at a diner with my parents at lunch, and telling them how I argued with a boy at school about Santa Claus. “He’s lying, right?” My parents looked at each other and then at me. I was pissed! “You lied to me for 11 years!!!!,” I yelled. I still believe in Santa. I believe in his magic, his spirit, and the joy of giving without receiving.

  • I flirt with everyone, unintentionally.

I’m a bubbly person. I smile at everyone. I believe that smiles are contagious. I was raised to “Kill them with kindness.” I just can’t help it!

  • If I could eat every cookie in the world, I would.

Just call me the cookie monster. I love them. I adore them! They are my weakness! Its actually really bad. Like alcoholics are with alcohol, I am with cookies. Especially Oreos! Its such a problem, that I actually refuse to buy them or bring them in the house because its such a terrible temptation! MMMM Oreos…….


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