Well-done, though Medium-Rare would certainly be adequate

Let us start off this thought train with a little bit of hypocritical choo-choo. Though my inaugural entry suggests that self-categorization is an inaccurate form of first-person description, I feel somewhat compelled to hit you with a little knowledge. [My deepest apologies for the discrepancy].

I’ve always been bothered by the “describe-yourself-in-one-worder’s” of the world. And it’s not just the previously mentioned inaccuracy that gets me. One-word descriptions just cannot possibly capture the true and complete essence of someone’s being, can they?

Hmm.

Earlier today, I had a miniature epiphany at work. After washing my hands, and with the lack of air dryer, I turned to the far less eco-friendly option – paper towels. It wasn’t until my hands were completely dry and I was crumpling the used sheets up in a ball that I realized how many I used – three. Now three may not sound like that many, but think about it. I have, what, twelve square-inches to remove moisture from? And I need thirty-six square inches of paper product to do so? I think not.

This started a more-than-necessary extension of thought. I began to consider what other over-the-top habits of mine may be going unnoticed. Here’s what I came up with:

- I lock my car three times every single time I get out of it. Not harming the environment, but not a vital process by any means.
- I take pictures of everything and everyone when my camera is out of its case – and often of the same groups of people over and over. And over.
- When I am caught off-guard by something humorous, the duration of my laughter is easily nineteen times that of everyone around me.
- Once upon a time, I discovered a love for Sharpies – and to this day I will purchase any variety of the stinky marker that is introduced to the school-supply market. [And don’t even get me started on my obsession with school supplies in general.]
- I apply at least three more coats of chapstick beyond the mere one that would suffice.
- When I cry, it is essentially unstoppable. An indescribable wave of sadness washes over me.
- I won’t leave the house until every single wave is straightened out of my hair.
- Love pours out of me like an enormous amount of water pent up behind a dam. And it floods into each and every relationship I am a part of. I often devote more attention to my friends’ happiness than I do my own. As a girlfriend, I love with all walls down and vulnerability up. I carry the weight of my family’s problems because I can’t help but share their burdens. The bright side, however, suggests that when they are on top of the world, I’m right next to them.
- The barista at the Starbucks I frequent knows my name…and my drink.
- When my nail polish is chipped, I pick all of it off – because I can’t stand the inconsistency.
- If someone asks me how I am on a good day, I’ll usually go straight to “exceptional.”
- I pack eleven shirts for a three day trip.
- When trying to briefly describe myself – I muster up thirteen demonstrative pieces of information.

And that’s just it. I’ve stumbled upon the one-word key to understanding all I encompass:

I am excessive.

An Unconventional Introduction

I’ve always found self-descriptions a little awkward and inaccurate. Though I’ve been an earshot away from more self-righteous illustrations of character than I’d like to count, it seems for the most part that people really sell themselves short. It’s not that I don’t think people capture themselves in the proper light, but most often, they leave out what I like to call, “the goods.” Naturally, and most likely because we’re hard-wired to do so, we give a sort of Reader’s Digest version and try to summarize decades of development into a few colorful sentences. I’ve never been satisfied with this.

I’m surrounded by incredible people, and I think if you asked them for a descriptions – you’d get your standard, run-of-the-mill group of young adults: recent college grad working for her alma mater, football-player turned coach, horse-rider struggling to pay the bills, receptionist in a big city, small business owner, graduate student, lab researcher recently re-located, nice-guy guitar player cherishing each day in a new city, etc.

But I’ve always been fascinated with how these depictions are altered when taken out of the first-person. To me, my friends are:

- A levelheaded listener, with a never-ending source of applicable advice ready to be drawn upon. Always up-to-date on which A-listers are caput and which websites donate goods to needy children with every click of the mouse.

- A passionate, opinionated and generous man working hard to fulfill his dream and civic duty. Uniquely romantic under a rugged exterior. If there were a less obnoxious and cliché term for “teddy bear,” I’d use it.

- A witty realist, sometimes begrudgingly considered “one of the guys,” with more stories than anybody else in the area code. Extremely random and fervently pursuing (whether physically or mentally) her “soul-mate.

- A beautiful, educated, conservative college-grad looking for the next step. A head-turner, but not in the “she-knows-she’s-gorgeous-and-I-find-it-highly-irritating” kind of way.

- A well-dressed, large-truck driving, man’s man interested in most girls that look his direction. Respectful, extremely hard-working, and equipped with an ample amount of “street smarts.”

- A vibrant, well-off, soon-to-be Doctor from Long Island. Tiny, and as bouncy as the curls on her head. Independent and driven, and a sucker for Sex and the City reruns and retail therapy.

- An unbelievably kind soul, never without a smile, and always up for an adventure. Brilliant lab researcher and incredible girlfriend (soon-to-be fiancé, financial circumstances pending).

- A creative, fun-loving, dependable friend who excels in just about everything he does. Well-versed in the challenges life presents and eager to learn the lessons they contain.

I feel as though as a reader, you’re looking for some sort of description of the author, for one of many reasons. Maybe you just want to understand the perspective I’m writing from. Maybe you are just shamelessly curious and want a picture. Maybe you relate to what I write and are wondering how far the similarities extend. Or, maybe you really don’t care.

I’ll put myself in your shoes here – assuming you’d like at least a little bit of “the goods.” Here’s what I’ve got to offer:

- A college-educated female in my early twenties.

- A resident of a place that has a stereotype of women my age I’d like to renegotiate.

- A feather ruffler, and

- A lover – in every sense of the word.

That should suffice, for now at least.