The facets that make up Nina...

I can't bring myself to write a "100 things about me" post. I'm just not gonna. That's not me. Wouldn't you rather know something besides my favorite color, movie, or book? Too bad, I'm telling you anyway. Hmmm....

One of the most annoying things about me:

I start a sentence and don't finish it. I'm not talking occasionally here. I do it to the point where I annoy myself. If I had to venture a guess I would say my mouth isn't catching up to my mind. When I'm actually speaking to someone my brain is at least four sentences ahead of my mouth. If perchance I get distracted by a streaker, o.k. more like a water truck, I lose my mouth thought. I never finish my sentence. I just pick up where my brain left off. It's fucking annoying I tell you.

A ten on the quirky factor:

Sometimes I use analogies that make perfect sense to me and Michael looks at me like I've been hitting the crack pipe. Case and point: One night after fucking the shit out of each other, Michael was lying there thinking of how horrible his life was. He had been accused of rape after a frisky foursome. His grades were in the shitter, finances going down hard defending himself, and he had to tell his ultra catholic mom that he had a foursome. I started pepping him up, but nothing was working. He just kept feeling sorry for himself. He finally said, "At least I still have my health." I thought about that for a minute. Hmmm...it's true not every nineteen year-old has his health, but most of them do. What the hell is he saying? It's fucking pointless. So in true Nina style I rolled over looked him in the eye and said, " That's like saying at least I still have my banjo." He burst out laughing. I couldn't understand why. It seemed like a perfect analogy to me. To this day he still gives me shit about that. I guess I could have used something a little less obscure, but I thought the banjo got the point across. I don't know....*

Wonderful and unlikely relationship:

The person of the opposite sex I was closest to growing up was my great uncle Jim. My mom would drop me off at Aunt June and Uncle Jim's house when she was going on, or coming off of a binge. There was a huge age gap. Their children were my mom's age. My aunt June always tried to find something for me to do. I know she was worried about entertaining me. Uncle Jim just let things be. I remember when the other relatives my age came to visit for holidays and stuff all the little girls would be in the yard playing with their dolls. The boys would be inside playing with the train set. I, where was I? I was in the garage asking uncle Jim how to work a ban saw. He helped me carve a door plaque for my friend Chris. It was the first and only thing I have ever made out of wood. He made a pair of stilts. I was always trying to walk around the yard on them. I couldn't quite master them. The town they lived in had one store. It was a combination gas station/pizza parlor/ video rental/ arcade/ post office. They both saved their quarters all year. Whenever I was there they would shove extra in my pockets. I loved pinball; alas I was no good. Aunt June would always try to make me drink o.j. in the morning. Uncle Jim would ask me if I wanted a cup of coffee. When I was really young he convinced me the greatest compliment I could give Aunt June on her Thanksgiving feast was to tell her that her mashed potatoes tasted like shit. I did it too. I would have followed that man of the side of a bridge. I felt so safe, so loved, and so myself. He never tried to force me to be someone I wasn't. He never told me to go inside and play with dolls. He let me be me. I love and miss him something awful. He passed away a while ago. I always remember him especially around the holidays. He started to know something wasn't right. He pulled me aside and said, "Neen, now if I go, I go, but I don't want you to come and visit me in the hospital. I know your gonna catch hell from the women, but hear me out. I want you to remember our stilts, our lawn mowing, our pinball, coffee, that time you braided your aunt's dog's ears together, ...(((chuckles))) and all the other trouble you got me into. I don't want you to remember me lying in a bed. Promise me." I did. I never went to see him and I didn't go to his funeral, just like he asked me. It damn near killed me. I promised though. I remember Uncle Jim, I remember...


Bad habit:

I fart more than a girl ought to. No! Not in public, at home. I know it's a faux pas, but fuck it you only live once.

Sad but true:

I never had/tasted a banana split until I was 23.



O.k that's enough facets for one day....





*Do not send me any banjo hate mail. I'm sure your banjo playing is the shit. Banjo's just aren't as useful in the musical world as say the guitar. I love all you banjo playing mofos. Now, lay off.