I can perform a dissection of a sheep's heart without flinching, I like color, and I like music, and I never think things through. I am selfish, and stubborn, and crazy, and eccentric, and if I lived by myself, I'd probably eat only cheese sticks, marshmallows, and apple juice. And avocados. Don't get me wrong, I love to cook, but I've never seen the point in cooking only for myself. I wave my arms when I'm mad, and I have a tendency to become obsessive compulsive when eating m&m's, and when changing the volume on a digital radio. I also have a history of making people cry. I don't believe in love. Maybe I'm to logical, maybe I'm too scared. Hell, maybe I'm just too damn stupid. What ever the reason, I think love sucks. I'm a self-proclaimed asexual, but I don't know why. No one's ever really given me enough of a challenge, I guess. No one's been intellectually stimulating enough for me to ever actually give a shit. Some days I worry that I'll end up like the crazy cat lady people always refer to when talking about their cliche little 'small-town' lives. Oh, well. I guess it's my fault for having standards.