confessions
i have trouble reading analog clocks.
i'm a really slow reader. i have to read each sentence multiple times. and sometimes entire passages because i read + daydream simultaneously. (i recently found out that nearly every member of my family does this too)
i have extreme test anxiety, and often start thinking about sex during them.
i scored 950 on my SAT's.
i suck my thumb.
i laugh a lot when i'm nervous.
i'm half hungarian-jew.
i'm single, and the happiest i've ever been.
my family has a long history of reclusive tendencies.
i'm the black sheep of the family.
my family is a lot poorer than we let on. when i was little, we lived in a canvas tent in the california hot springs of napa valley, and it was some of the best years of my life. we've also lived in an attic, a porch, and various other places too small to comfortably accommodate six people.
i'm extremely narcissistic.
and now for a typical moment at the McCarthy dinner table:
Steve: I know half of the Declaration of Independence in morse code...(taps morse code on the table)
Dad: You left out an h.
Mom: (giggles and turns red like the single glass of wine which made her tipsy)
Charlanne: Hey, don't I look like batboy? (scrunches face, and makes a horrifyingly accurate impression of batboy)
Morla: Holy shit.
Dad: Holy what??
Morla: Holy shit. I learned it from you.
Mom: Literally! (giggles loudly)
Me: Mom, what does that even mean??!! (moves bottle of wine to the far end of the table)
Dad: Are you saying that I...
Stephen: (picks up an acoustic guitar and starts singing Elizabeth Cotton's "Freight Train") Freight train, freight train riding so fast...(everyone begins singing and harmonizing)
(Oliver the house cat walks by and meows.)
Dad: (in an effeminate lisp) Thilly kitty! Thilly kitty, you come back here!
(Mom's cellphone rings)
Mom: Oh, it's my client, I have to take this!
Charlanne: You mean your sexy, latino lover?
Me: (whispers) Emmanuel...
Mom: Oh, stop. No more teasing Mom. (leaves the table and answers her phone)
Dad: Mom does have a boyfriend, and his name is Benjamin.
Stephen:Yeah, and apparently it's all about him.
Morla: It's all about the benjamins, baby...
Charlanne: MO MONEY MO PROBLEMS BITCH!!! (does the batboy face again)
Stephen: I get locked the fuck up, released on my own recognizance.
end scene.
just in case you needed proof...