Because They Made Me...

This isn't anything I could really see myself doing...blogging I mean. I guess everyone in my family has one...and my boyfriend...so maybe I should jump on the bandwagon? I don't know, I've always been pretty non conformist, and this is about as trend-ish as it gets. (Did I mention that I REALLY like to end words in -ish? Kinda-ish, forever-ish, Cory-ish...Anyway...) But, here I am anyway so I might as well start introducing myself.
There are so many ways I could do this...except for maybe interpretive dance. Because it's the internet. Not an actual real room. (Though that'd be pretty cool, with people popping in and out randomly while my thoughts play over a loud speaker. Maybe some light...I mean...incredibly-fattening-and-stuffed-as-full-of-sugar-as-you-can-get-refreshments.) But I suppose I'll go with the classical paragraph format, since I'm lazy.
First off, my name. I am called a large myraid of things, some of which were shouted at me from random car windows, but I won't be listing those. I generally go by Cory. (Short for Corinne, which is pronouced Cor-een. And yes, I know, it rhymes with Chlorine. Been there, done that.) However, people have been known to call me Wombat, Wolfy, Ryu, Ry-ry, Reenie Roo Roo (don't ask), Roo roo, (And eventually...) Roo, Cor, Hard Core, and the amazingly beautiful chick who blows my mind everytime she walks into the room. (Okay, so that last one was a bit of a stretch. Okay, a lot of a stretch. Just kill all my happiness, why doncha?)
I'm also incredibly long winded. I mean, come on, I turned telling you my name into an entire essay worthy paragraph. There's something wrong with that.
I could go on with that, but I thought it would be funny if a paragraph about long windedness was really short. Haha. Irony. It's funny. You laugh at it. Okaaaay, anyway...
I currently live in a town that would be huge to anyone else living in my state, but really kinda tiny to anyone outside of it. It's a nice place to live I guess. I think I prefer the people to the place though. If I could just move everyone here to a new city, I would. One word to describe this place would probably be...hm...I would say....quaint. And epically freezing cold. (Yes, I know that's three words. I'm NOT that bad at math, I swear. ... Okay, maybe I am. but STILL.)
Unfortunately, and fortunately, I am still living at home and will be for at least another year and a half. This is unfortunate, because it does mean that I still have a curfew and rules and what-not, however, I love the crazy bunch of lunatics I live with. Most of the time.
I suppose I should start with my parents, the most in-love-and-not-afraid-to-show-it-even-at-fourty-and-thirty-something-couple I've ever seen. If there was an award for old people PDA, my parents would win it. (I'm sure they wouldn't be too happy with me sharing that over the WWW, but I think they'll live. Somehow.) My mom is one of those women that could go to the store fifteen minutes after she just woke up in sweats, a T-shirt, and an old hat and still look like she just stepped off the pages of the magazine. However, the chances of her going ANYWHERE without spending at LEAST thirty minutes on hair and make-up and what-not are slim. So slim that they practically don't exist. My father on the other hand is one of those guys that just goes in whatever he's wearing, and people can like it or shove it. He's already married and hired onto a good job. Who else does he have to impress?
My younger sister Kaylie is next on the list of patients here at the assylum. She's a straight 4.0 student, and the brains to show it. (She's a Freshman and in Algebra 2. That's what I call skills. Why couldn't I pick up on that?) She's a drop dead gorgeous blond with the oh so cliche' blue eyes and a stick thin body most girls would kill for. Sound enticing? Well, too bad. She still thinks boys have cooties.
Next in line is my little brother Brendyn. He, like me and my father, is Attention Defficite with a little bit of Hyperactive thrown into the mix. He is the spaziest spaz I have ever met and enjoys taking songs off the radio and changing the lyrics until the humor of it has him on the floor laughing hysterically with tears coming down his face and the rest of us watching and wondering why on Earth that was so funny to him. He is the only boy (other than my dad) so he tends to be a bit on the emotional side for a twelve year old guy. But that's alright, we love him anyway. Most of the time.
Last but not least in anything other than height and age is Alyssa, the spoiled rotten baby of the family. I don't know as much about her as I should, considering that sixteen and eight is a huge age difference. There's not a whole lot for us to relate to. I mean, come on, I can only handle so many conversations about how horses are SOOOO cool, and she can only handle so much what should I wear to the dance on Friday? But, as much as I hate that she's so spoiled, I have to admit she's pretty cute. She has this little button nose...
Okay, gag. That's enough of that.
The only pet we have is Pixi. (Yes I did spell that right. It's a name, not a word.) She's this itty bitty, dwarfish fuzzball of utter adorability. (That is also not a word, but i like it anyway.) Seriously, this cat is full grown and still the size of a six month old kitten. She really can't go anywhere on her own because we're always picking her up and snuggling her until she gets fussy and then deposited on the nearest available flat surface. She's the perfect size to still be cute.
I have many best friends. Some of which would like to think they are my best friends, but really aren't. All of them are noteworthy. Unfortunately I have not the space for that, or the attention span, so you'll just have to get to know them as I mention them. Although Brianna and Erika do deserve some notation because they stuck with me through some of the worst of my adolescent temper tantrum throwing emoness without batting an eye. Love you guys!
My boyfriend. How to describe him in only one paragraph...
I call him Michael. I'm the only one besides his mother who does. That's what makes it so special. He's utterly fantastic in every way. He has these amazing eyes...and this stunning smile...and he always smells soooooooo good.... (I LOVE Old Spice. With a passion.) And that's just the physical characteristics. He's the sweetest guy I have ever known other than my father. (Yeah, I was one of those girls that wanted to marry my dad when I was little...) I swear, if I asked Michael to force the Earth to stop turning he'd tell my I was silly, but he'd try it anyway just for me. Yes, we do sometimes communicate in some really strange sounding animal noises, and he may tell you I do it all the time, but in truth, he started it. I just picked up on it. He's confident, and strong. (Strong enough to pick up 140 lbs. of girlfriend and swing her around.) I don't think there's anything he can't do if he really wants to. He's not a klutz (fortunately, or we'd both be falling on our butts every three seconds.) and he has this kind of grace only a guy can have. He has his quirks too though, like his endless pool of knowledge about every kind of gun ever made. (Seriously, this guy can watch an action flick and tell you the kind of gun being used, the type of bullets it takes, AND that the noise Hollywood used isn't anywhere near correct.) He also hates ALL water. He won't even let me splash him with water after he whips me with a rag when we're washing dishes. (Insert self pity and poutiness here) But I wouldn't trade him (or his adorable quirks) for anything. Not the world, not chocolate, not even an interview with the creators of the Transformer's movie. (Squee! Transformers!)
So...I guess this is where we get to me. Obviously, like I said before, I'm Cory. As you can see by not only the title, or the fact that I browsed about four different sites while typing this, OR the three hundred off topic parantheses, I am ADD. About as ADD as you can get and still function like a normal member of society. Well...kinda-ish. I like to call myself an artist in both words and pictures, though wether or not that's true I can not attest too. I have been an avid reader since I read the word cat at three, and a writer since fourth grade Writer's Workshop. I have an over the top imagination and have been known to make up stories about people in stores, or pieces of their conversations I have overheard. Fortunately, no one but me hears said stories. I have an unhealthy love of food, but still somehow manage to squeek by at a healthy weight. I'm impossibly lazy and I procrastinate everything. That's gotten better though. I'm also the biggest klutz on this side of the US. If you've ever read Twilight...Bella ain't got nothing on me. I can walk right off of a porch and miss the stairs by about three feet. (True story. Don't ask.) However, the positive side of this is that I'm REALLY good at catching myself before I fall on my face and make a fool of myself. I'm not much of a girly girl, and I take comfort over glamore any day. (Much to the disappointment of my mother, who would probably die and go to heaven if I willingly spent more than five mintues getting ready.) I have better things to do than worry about how I look.
There's more than that, but this has already gotten REALLY long, so you'll all just have to get to know me as this goes. Until my next entry, whenever that might be, this is Cory posting and signing out.